When tired, my mind can be a monkey cage of thoughts, rattling with primates reaching for the next worry-limb on which to hang out—for a moment.
I don’t like not knowing what I don’t know, especially when it appears something is rumbling beneath my feet, when dark clouds fill the horizon. Perhaps a health issue is troubling, or maybe a financial pressure is squeezing me to consider how the coming months, with their coming financial demands, might play out. Whatever the scenario, the temptation is always the same—imagine the worst; hope for the best. This. Is. Dumb.
Why? Why would a rational person imagine a future that has not arrived, and do so in a way that obviously steals the joy of the moment, wasting energy on what might be at the expense of what is? Because my mind is well made, advanced, and looks for danger. That’s a good thing, which has negative tendencies.
If I can imagine the future, fix my worries on a destination or potential end result, then at least I feel in control. Catch that—if I can imagine what might come about, then at the very least I have created something that makes me feel like I am in control; I have something against which to create contingency plans.
Instead, I can choose to not know, practicing a holy ignorance that embraces the way of Jesus: “Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes” (Mt. 6:34).
Rather than creating a worst-case scenario, consider ways to choose ignorance, knowing that God is a God of presence, with you always—now.