I Didn't Know What to Do

 

I was talking the other day with someone regarding regret over how I handled a past lack of perspective—years ago—that I had had on an issue. As I was unpacking my thoughts out loud, I finally just said, 

“I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to think.”

How good this felt to finally admit this!

How good to stop beating around the bush and just state what was true: that, at the time, I didn’t know what to do or how to think about the matter at hand. I also didn’t have anyone who could help me navigate my thinking, because everybody around me held very distinct absolutes and opinions on the topic; nobody seemed, like me, to be flummoxed. 

So at the time, I let others run with what they believed, and I tried to stay out of it, with not a lot of success.

I can only describe this as floundering, this not knowing what to do or to think. We all go through it at one time or another (I would hope, as nobody, ever, always has all of the answers). 

But instead of acknowledging to others that we honestly do not know what to do or to think, either out of embarrassment, peer and political pressure, or feeling stupid, we quietly go along with the group and mouth—or imply—stances we aren’t sure we believe. 

How sad that I could not at least admit that I didn’t know where I stood—not to cause others to then doubt their conclusions, but simply to be authentic, with nothing to hide. Some call this sort of transparency being vulnerable, but I call it being pure. And I didn’t have the maturity back then to live this purity and simply assert:

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to think.”

Only by God’s grace in winnowing timidity, fear of being criticized, and submission to prideful powers did I finally, a few days ago, gain closure from my past hesitancy in, and weak retreating from, dominating circumstances and people. It came in the verbal confession:

“I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to think.” 

Going forward, when encountering similar circumstances and people, I hope I put into practice what I have learned—letting God’s chips fall where they may—and in complete, Godly freedom, void of human duplicity, openly remark: 

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to think.” 

“Therefore, all who are mature, let’s have this attitude; and if in anything you have a different attitude, God will reveal that to you as well; let’s keep living by that same standard to which we have attained.” Philippians 3:15-16 

Copyright Barb Harwood