Be careful what you wish for – sometimes, I forget how good this advice is.

In life, we often choose to ask difficult questions without actually contemplating the answers. Then, when we hear something we don’t like, we find ourselves both shocked and upset. We could have saved ourselves some pain by weighing the possible consequences before we asked the question, yet too often we rush into things without this step. For once, I’m actually taking my own advice.

There’s little less unsettling than not knowing. People regret things they’ve done as much as things they’ve chosen NOT to do, and finding the balance between the two often seems like an impossible compromise. We don’t have a crystal ball or an oracle that Greek heroes consulted before charging into battle, and don’t know the plan that God has for us just yet. As such, we find ourselves stuck in a quicksand of indecision, trying to figure out the best course of action. So I ask you, when is it time to leave it well enough alone?

I find myself in the midst of this now, with my longing for answers precluding my ability to put it behind me. There are situations in my life that are unfinished, lacking the proverbial closure that sometimes we need for no other reason than to be able to move on with full understanding. Yet there comes a defining moment where we have to choose to sink or swim; is it worth it to open Pandora’s Box and seek the answers I need, knowing that I risk what those very answers may say? Or is it better to throw in the towel, accept that I may never know the truth, and learn to proceed without it?

I’m inclined to say the latter, though coming to terms with this is difficult. With a quick email or short letter, I feel like I could put to rest many of these questions, and I think I’m even willing to risk WHAT these answers may be. Yet on the flip side, why is it important? It doesn’t matter anymore, and I could as easily just walk away from the whole situation and move on. In fact, I’ve done so. Still, I have the irritating habit of not letting sleeping dogs lie (or cats, in a literal manner) and refuse to spend more effort on something than it deserves.

And so I remain in my quicksand, weighing one side against the other, trying to figure out what’s the best course of action to take. One thing I know, however, is that I’m tired of standing still.