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Why It’s Okay Not to Have All the Answers

I don’t have all the answers, and I don’t think I want them anyhow.

Because we find ourselves in the questions. We find ourselves in inquiry, in search, in struggle and failure and triumph and u-turns and dead-ends and unending trails of thought on open highway entrances with the radio turned loud and the sunroof open and the sunshine beating down on us with the heat of a thousand days.

We find love.

We find worth.

We find integrity. (Or we find where we lack it.)

We find us.

The people who scare me are not the ones wandering and wondering. No, the ones that terrify me are sure of foot and even more sure of path. How can they be so certain? How do you know that your favorite flavor is vanilla if you’ve never tried chocolate?

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