The Freedom of Not Knowing

Here I am, finding my feet again.

Sometimes I wonder: Is it me that no longer fits in the world I’ve created? Or has the world changed so much that I no longer feel at home in it?

Either way, I’ve found myself struggling to know where I fit or where I belong.

This isn’t a new place. In fact, it’s become strangely familiar.

Especially over the past decade, I’ve devoted more time to prayer, contemplation, connection, and relationship. More time to understand myself, others, and God. More time to pay attention to what I’m doing and who I’m becoming. More time to explore the depth and meaning of life. More time to simply be awake to it all.

I assumed that the more intentional I became, the more answers I would find. I imagined I would feel more settled. More certain. More at home in the world.

Instead, I’ve discovered the opposite.

And surprisingly, that has become one of the greatest freedoms of my life.

Most of us spend our lives searching for answers, meaning, and control. We convince ourselves that one day we’ll have it figured out. Then we’ll finally be happy. Then we’ll have whatever it is that’s been missing.

But what if life isn’t about figuring it all out? What if it’s about letting go?

Letting go of expectations. Letting go of certainty. Letting go of our need to control every outcome.

What if the invitation is to embrace mystery instead?

To accept that we will never fully understand, and somehow discover that this is where peace begins.

When we stop demanding certainty, we become free to receive the present moment as it is. We discover that all we’ve ever truly had is this…here…now.

From that place, anticipation replaces anxiety. Curiosity replaces fear. Trust begins to replace control. But how?

When I wrote Take It All Apart: How to Live, Lead, and Work With Intention, my hope was to help people move beyond fear and limiting beliefs—to reconnect with the true, God-given self that exists beneath the labels, expectations, and stories we’ve accumulated throughout life.

The self beyond stress and distraction. The self created and loved by God.

From that place of wholeness, we can begin asking different questions: Who am I called to be? What am I called to do? Then we can intentionally align our lives with those answers.

For me—and for so many people who read the book—that framework brought tremendous healing and clarity.

Many people jokingly asked when I would write the sequel: Put It All Back Together.

The joke always made me smile because it revealed something deeply human.

We long for certainty. We want the formula. We want everything neatly reconstructed so we can finally feel secure.

But somewhere along my own journey, I realized the next step isn’t putting it all back together. The next step is letting it all go.

Once we’ve unraveled the beliefs, patterns, and identities that no longer serve us, we’re invited into something even deeper.

Not another system. Not another answer.

A different way of living. A movement from control to faith. That shift changes everything.

Living from Control	Living from Faith
I have to make everything happen.	I faithfully respond to what God asks of me.
Fear drives my decisions.	Trust guides my decisions.
I strive to force outcomes.	I surrender outcomes.
I seek certainty before acting.	I obey even without certainty.
I carry the weight alone.	I allow God to carry what I cannot.
I grasp tightly.	I hold things with open hands.
I worry about tomorrow.	I trust God with tomorrow.
I measure success by results.	I measure faithfulness by obedience.
I need to be in charge.	I seek to be led.
My peace depends on circumstances.	My peace comes from God’s presence.

I can write these words. I can teach these principles. And yet I still struggle to live them.

Oddly enough, that gives me hope. Because the deeper I come to know God, the more I realize this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.

God never promised us a struggle-free life. He simply promised we would never struggle alone.

He offers us His yoke—not because life becomes easy, but because we no longer have to carry it by ourselves. We have our part, and He has His.

God never promised we would fully understand Him. How could finite minds completely comprehend an infinite God?

Even Jesus’ own disciples wrestled to understand Him. They stumbled. They questioned. They misunderstood. Yet He continued to invite them closer.

As I continue learning what it means to live, lead, and work from a place of faith instead of control, there are two truths that continually bring me back to peace.

First, God is good. All the time. “Why do you call me good?” Jesus answered. “No one is good—except God alone.” (Mark 10:18)

Second, love is the greatest commandment. “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind… And love your neighbor as yourself.” (Matthew 22:36–40)

When I live rooted in those two truths, I find peace regardless of my circumstances. I find freedom in not knowing.

And that’s what I’ve learned about faith. You don’t know for certain until you experience it.

The certainty doesn’t come first. Trust comes first. Belief comes first. Surrender comes first.

Then, over time, your heart begins to know what your mind could never have reasoned its way into.

Living from faith instead of control is radical. It is brave. It is rare. It is a gift. And it is only possible by the grace of God.