My Back to School Lesson{Part 1}

Last Updated on August 5, 2014 by

When I was a child and teenager I liked to know everything or at least make you think I did. I was the straight-A overachiever who wanted to be the best at everything. My control issues go way back.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about Dying to Being in Control. I can assure you—I’m not dead to it, yet. But thankfully, God won’t leave me the way He found me, no matter how long it takes.  He’s relentless like that.

When I went away to college I thought I was a pretty smart girl. I had the usual college freshman jitters but I was pretty confident in my ability to make it. I was the Valedictorian of my high school for goodness sake. Boy, was I in for a rude awakening of epic proportion.

Oh. My. Word.

Let me just sum it quickly by saying that I-didn’t-know-what-I-didn’t-know.  And the more I learned the dumber I felt because the more I learned the more I realized what I didn’t know.

Awful. 

Awww-ful.

It was awful, I tell you.

But I flipped the do-better-try-harder switch into overdrive and off I went. I plopped my perfect little self on the front row in every class, took a ridiculous amount of notes, studied like crazy, and began racking up my A’s like nobody’s business.

Can I just say life doesn’t work that way.  I’m sure you’ve already figured that out. Apparently, I’m a slow-learner in that department.

I’ve spent a lifetime trying “to know”.  I really like to have it all figured out. When I don’t know or can’t figure it out I Google it, phone a friend, or go to the library or bookstore, because there’s a book about everything.  But there are just some things Google can’t answer. And if I had a dollar for every time Siri said, “I don’t understand your question.”…

Last week I was talking to my kids about some upcoming plans that Eric and I have. One of them said, “I didn’t know that. How come I didn’t know that? You never tell me anything. How come they knew and I didn’t know?” He then proceeded to politely give his opinion/suggestions about how those plans pertained to him and what he thought I ought to do or do differently. My response: “That’s why I don’t always tell you my plans.”

At this point I need to say to you, “God never wastes anything.” He is relentless in His compassion toward us. I know that because today as I was getting ready for a meeting I was doing my usual mental exercise of trying to figure it all out. “Figure out what?” you might ask. Dear friend, the list is long. Very long.

1.       How am I going to….

2.       When will I….

3.       When will he….

4.       Why won’t they….

5.       Who’s going to…

6.       What’s going to happen with…

For every issue I solve or someone else solves or it solves itself, there are ten more that just never seem to get solved and I can’t figure out how to solve them. What is the answer to all of those questions and more?

I.

Don’t.

Know.

I don’t know. I’m not very fond of those words. You’d think I would be by now. The rude awakening I experienced in college was nothing. I’m a little smarter than I was back then. I’ve learned a lot. But the more I learn the more I realize I still don’t-know-what-I-don’t-know. But I want to know. I need to know. Or at least I think I do.

So today as I’m getting ready for my meeting, freakin’ out about everything I don’t know, sounding very much like that child of mine did last week, I heard these words:

I know the plans I have for you.

That is a very familiar and favorite verse of mine.(Jeremiah 29:11) I’ve heard it and quoted it many times throughout my life. But today, during my mental frenzy, He emphasized two words:  I know.

God said, “Stacy, I know.”

“I know how you’re going to…”

“I know when you will….”

“I know when he will….”

“I know why they won’t….”

“I know who’s going to…”

“I know what’s going to happen with…”

“I know answers to questions you don’t even know to ask.”

He knows.

And He knows about your life, too.

And sometimes He chooses not to tell us what He knows because we’re not much different than a child who has an opinion and is all too eager to offer suggestions about how we think those plans pertain to us and what He should do or do differently.

Comical when you think about it.

So here’s what I know.

He knows.

That’s it. He knows.

And most of what He wants me to know He’s already told me in His Word.

And what I don’t know, He’ll tell me, when-and-if I need to know.

Class dismissed.

{But I hope you’ll come back tomorrow for Part 2}.