Embracing the “Not Knowing.”

Ten years ago this month, my world changed forever. I was 23 and boarding a plane headed halfway around the world to Hanoi, Vietnam. I knew little about Vietnam. I knew Americans had fought there in the 1960’s and 70’s. I had seen the film “Good Morning Vietnam” and loved it. I had names of Americans I would team up with, but no reliable contact information. I had booked a reservation at the Phuc Loi Hotel (at the time uncertain of the pronunciation) to serve as temporary housing, but knew I would need to find a house to rent. I knew that Vietnamese was a tonal language and I was tonally challenged. I knew that I would be working with international youth, but did not know the organizational structure or leadership of the organization I was sent to help. I did know that I was up for the challenge, a part of me wanted to escape a painful job loss, but mostly I knew I needed to fly far away with the intention of finding my way back home.

I packed my bags – 1 giant duffle, 1 large backpack, 1 smaller backpack, and a guitar and I headed off on an adventure. I flew from Indy to Chicago. I was then supposed to fly to Hong Kong to catch a flight directly to Hanoi and meet the Americans at the airport. I was delayed out of Chicago, and thus missed my flight from Hong Kong to Hanoi. This set the tone for the next ten months – challenges that called for me to keep my cool, adapt, cope, and adjust. Any assumptions or predictions that I once had were lost and a new world of “not knowing” became the norm.

To encounter “not knowing” can be terrifying, and out of this fear we may try anything to avoid it. My flight delay meant an unexpected overnight in Hong Kong. Terror paralyzed me. I tried to play confident, but instead, I got my bags, checked into the airport hotel, and sat in a daze. Here I was in one of the greatest cities in the world and I was dumbfounded in a room. By the next morning, I realized I could not allow my “not knowing” to stop me. I boarded a plane to Ho Chi Minh City, collected my heavy bags, sat with all I had for a couple of hours, rechecked my bags, and then flew to what would become my home away from home.


Riding down my street.

 For the next several months, I learned to embrace the “not knowing” and to become familiar navigating the space of uncertainty. I spent hours sitting on my roof top balcony reading the saints, mystics, and desert fathers. I resonated with their humility towards God – like them, the more I sought to know and understand an infinite Creator, the more acutely aware I became of my inability to grasp God. It seemed the more I came to know only led to further realizations of even more I could not fathom. Claims and definitions I had made regarding God and religion appeared to be more a reflection of my desires. The more comfortable I became with the “not knowing”, the more I came to appreciate the transcendent and mysterious nature of God. I often uttered, “I know, but I do not know.” By quieting the assumptions and letting go of the predictions in my mind, I found peace. My soul spoke a language I cannot begin to describe with words. My soul knew that God was God and that was enough. My soul found its way home.