I like to know everything. It can be a problem sometimes. For instance, when it comes to gifts I want to be surprised deep down in my heart, but I give very specific lists involving links with follow up recommendations and reminders that lead to the dangerous "just give me a clue" question and accidentally discovering receipts, therefore ruining said surprise. As you can see, it's a vicious cycle.
In other scenarios my need to know comes out in more of a type A format. I like to have a plan, to know what is going on, to schedule my future as far in advance as my paper planner will allow. Brent specifically finds this frustrating on beach vacations, when my internal clock wakes me at 7AM and I'm poking him and whispering "what's the plan for the day? I'm just curious!" Like who needs a plan at the beach? Apparently me. (Also are you seeing a pattern in our relationship? I'll give you a hint: it involves two very different sleeping schedules.)
In all seriousness. When I have a plan and I'm not sure how it will turn out, or when I don't have a plan and I want to know the plan but I just can't, I practically throw a mental (and sometimes tear-filled) tantrum.
Where are you God? Don't you hear me, see me, remember me, anything? I thought we had an understanding where you love me so you answer my prayers. I don't feel you, I don't hear you, and frankly I don't like you right now.
Fear rises up in me as I realize that I just don't know, and I have absolutely know way of controlling that. There are situations where I can't think my way into a resolution or answer. I can't take matters into my own hands because really that was never an option anyway. This feeling is paralyzing to me. I just can't comprehend how I could possibly make it one more day not knowing or better yet, fully understanding what is going on. You see, the hard reality I'm learning is this-
the root of fear of the unknown is lack of control.
Nobody want's to be lost in the wilderness with no way to control being found. And I think that situations with an unknown outcome feel a little bit like that. Then our human tendencies kick in, burrow down, hide out, curl up in a ball and say this is too hard, I'm tired, I'm done.
When I am weak. He is strong. My void only creates a space for him to fill.
Whatever your wilderness is, your gaping hole of unknown, chances are it was full of something else before. As much as you, or I, or anyone else don't want to hear/admit/know it-
This void is a gift to give Him more of you. A Home for Jesus himself to rest.
I write that with tears in my eyes because I know it is hard. I know the pain of the unknown, and the terrifying feeling out-of-controlness it induces. Some days you just have to speak out loud I WILL make it out of this wilderness. And keep speaking it even if you just can't see it.
I have yet to master the art of hope without fear, because hope is such a vulnerable thing. But I'm working on believing that hope is worth it, and that it is never wasted.