I spend far too much time trying to solve things that were never mine to solve.
Myself, others around me, and society as a whole seem increasingly drawn into discussions and debates about things we really know very little about—politics, health, religion, the economy, social justice, and the social order of the day. We speak with such certainty, defend our positions, choose our sides, and sometimes become angry at people who see things differently.
Yet I think anyone with a little humility eventually has to admit a simple truth:
We really don't know that much.
Take something as basic as our own bodies. Ask me exactly how the food I ate this morning is broken down, absorbed, converted into energy, transported through my bloodstream, stored, and ultimately used by trillions of cells, and within a few questions I would probably fall flat on my face. I have lived inside this body my entire life, and yet I barely understand the miracle occurring beneath my own skin.
And somehow I think I understand the world.
We listen to sound bites, headlines, podcasts, politicians, doctors, commentators, influencers, and so-called experts telling us what we should believe. We take these tiny fragments of information and construct entire opinions around them.
Social media has only magnified it. It gives us just enough information to become angry, afraid, offended, or convinced that someone else is wrong. The undercurrent of division—particularly around politics and social issues—continually stokes the flames of irritation. Before long, we can begin to see ourselves as victims of people, institutions, political parties, or a world that refuses to behave the way we think it should.
I know because I have done it.
I have involved myself in these senseless debates and walked away with nothing but frustration. Rarely did I change another person's mind. Rarely did anything actually get solved. All I accomplished was surrendering my peace to something I probably didn't fully understand in the first place.
So I have to return.
Return to what I know.
I know that I love God, and I know that God loves me.
I know that I love my wife and my children.
I know that I love my family.
I know that I care deeply about the people and even the little animals God has placed directly in front of me. I can care for them. I can love them. I can provide for them. I can create the best environment possible for the people and creatures entrusted to my care.
That may sound simplistic, but perhaps simplicity is exactly what I need.
Because beyond the walls of my own home, there is an enormous amount I simply do not know.
I don't truly know what my neighbor is going through.
I don't completely understand our economy.
I don't understand the human body.
I don't understand why some people suffer while others prosper.
I certainly don't understand the universe, how it came into existence, where it ends, or how creation itself holds together.
And maybe I was never supposed to.
Perhaps peace begins when I stop demanding answers to the unsolvable and start becoming responsible for what God has actually placed within my reach.
Love the person in front of me.
Forgive the person who hurt me.
Feed the dog.
Call my children.
Love my wife.
Help someone who is struggling.
Be grateful for what I have.
Pray.
Be still.
Trust God.
Jesus never told me I had to understand everything. He told me what mattered most:
“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind… Love your neighbor as yourself.” — Matthew
