I Don't Know.

There are moments in life when everything seems to demand an explanation. People ask questions. Situations become complicated. Circumstances unfold in ways that leave others confused, curious, or even suspicious. In those moments, the pressure to explain yourself can feel overwhelming.

You search for the right words. You try to organise the story. You attempt to make sense of events that even you are still trying to understand.

But sometimes the truth is much simpler than the explanation people expect. Sometimes the most honest answer is: I do not know.

Life has a way of placing us inside situations that we did not plan, did not invite, and cannot fully explain. Not every storm is the result of a mistake you made. Not every complication is the result of poor decisions. Sometimes circumstances simply unfold in ways that leave us standing in the middle of something we did not create.

And when that happens, the more you try to explain it, the more tangled the story becomes.

You add details.
You try to clarify intentions.
You attempt to defend yourself from misunderstandings.

Yet somehow the explanation grows heavier with every sentence. Instead of bringing clarity, it creates more confusion. Instead of resolving the moment, it multiplies the questions.

This is when wisdom quietly offers a different response. I do not know.

Those words can feel uncomfortable because we often associate knowledge with control. If we can explain everything, we feel safe. If we can justify every step, we feel protected. But human understanding has limits, and pretending otherwise only exhausts the heart.

I remember teaching the children's class one day, and how intelligent my young children are! On this day I was asked a question and I really wanted to defend God's honour. I wanted to explain the story in a way that my children will have this illusion that everything will always make sense. But the truth is, on that particular day I did not want to stand up from bed. I did not want to face my world. I did not want to face my situations. I stood up only because my life was no longer about me, it was about the very many people God has brought around me. So on days when I don't live for me, I live for them.

This was one of those days, standing in front of children telling them about a kind, and faithful, and understanding God... yet my heart was broken. No... shattered. When that question came, I tried to as other times explain through the depths of the scriptures. But I was living a different reality, even when I knew Gods word to be true. I am a lot of things to a lot of people, but I am no hypocrite. So my only response, my most honest response as I stood in front of my children, was "I don't know".

The formation of those words in my lips felt like I was betraying God, yet as I carried on with the class I found my own healing, because I explained that even if I do not know, God does. And faith is not trusting what you know or do not know, it is trusting the God who you serve. It is knowing He has not failed before, and He will not start failing because of you. That simple explanation nullified the questions and doubts I had before that class.

There is humility in admitting that you do not have every answer. There is honesty in acknowledging that some things are simply beyond your understanding right now.

Even in the Scriptures we see moments where human beings were confronted with situations they could not fully explain. When suffering, confusion, and questions filled the life of Job, much of the struggle came from the attempt to explain something that no one in the room truly understood.

Sometimes explanations are not immediately available. Sometimes life unfolds in ways that only make sense later. And sometimes there is no explanation that will satisfy everyone asking the question. That is why it is perfectly acceptable to say, I do not know.

Not as an excuse.
Not as avoidance.
But as an honest acknowledgement of human limitation.

Yet there is an important truth that sits quietly beneath those words. Even when you do not know, God does.

The limits of human understanding do not apply to God. What feels chaotic to us is not chaotic to Him. What feels confusing to us is not confusing to Him. The pieces that seem scattered in our eyes are already seen as a complete picture from His perspective.

The life of Jesus Christ reminds us that trust in God is not built on having every explanation. It is built on confidence in the One who sees beyond our present moment.

So when you say I do not know, you are not confessing defeat. You are recognising the difference between human understanding and divine wisdom. There is freedom in that realisation.

You no longer have to twist yourself into complicated explanations just to satisfy every curious voice around you. You no longer have to pretend that you understand things that are still unfolding. You no longer have to carry the burden of answering questions that do not yet have answers.

Sometimes the most truthful response is the simplest one, I do not know.

And when those words leave your lips, let them be followed by a quiet confidence in your heart.

You may not know, but God does. And sometimes that too, is okay.