Living with Uncertainty Part 1

August 25, 2026

Welcome to The Daily Reflections by Dr. Joe Howell. This week’s reflections are on the subject of Living with Uncertainty.

Most of life appears to be certain. The mail arrives. We go to the grocery store, keep our appointments, eat our meals, and attend to the ordinary business of the day. Evening comes, we go to sleep, and we arise in the morning. Winter gives way to spring, and summer eventually yields to fall. These dependable rhythms provide structure. We need them. Without some measure of predictability, life would feel chaotic.

Because most days unfold more or less as expected, we can gradually begin to assume that life itself is under control. We make plans, establish routines, and imagine that tomorrow will be much the same as today. Beneath these reasonable expectations, however, there may be a less reasonable belief: that life should continue according to our plans simply because they are our plans. Then something changes. The appointment is canceled. The diagnosis is unexpected. The relationship shifts. The job ends. The phone rings with news we did not want to hear. A delay becomes a loss, or a disruption becomes the beginning of an entirely different life.

Not every uncertainty is unwanted—some are gratefully embraced. Some unexpected turns lead to opportunities, friendships, discoveries, and new beginnings we could never have planned. Still, whether uncertainty brings delight or disappointment, it reminds us that reality is larger than our expectations. Life contains patterns that we can often count on, yet it does not sign contracts with us.

We expect events to follow the established route—the regular way of doing things. But a labyrinth is not a straight road. It turns back on itself. At times it appears to lead us away from the center, even when we are still moving toward it. But living wisely does not mean knowing exactly what lies ahead. It has more to do with being present even when the way ahead is unclear.

Our longing for certainty is understandable. Depending on circumstances, certainty can feel like safety. It can reassure us that we can prepare, protect ourselves, and prevent pain. The ego, whose work is partly to help us navigate the world, naturally prefers what it can predict and control. The difficulty begins when we unconsciously assume that life owes us a particular outcome.

We may believe that if we are responsible, generous, diligent, and faithful, events should go well for us. Certainly, wise choices improve the likelihood of good outcomes. Hard work matters. Sacrifice matters—kindness, discipline, and perseverance are essential. But they are not guarantees. Some people work faithfully and are rewarded. Others work just as faithfully and remain overlooked. Some people make careful choices and still encounter misfortune. Others seem to stumble into good fortune without having earned it.

This can be deeply unsettling because we want life to be fair, orderly, and understandable. We want a visible connection between what we give and what we receive. Yet life does not always distribute its joys and sorrows according to our calculations. The familiar phrase “I never promised you a rose garden” speaks to this difficult truth. It does not mean that life is cruel or that we should expect the worst. Nor does it mean that we should stop planting roses.

It means that no person is promised a life of complete delight and comfort. The challenge is not to become cynical, suspicious, or permanently braced for disaster. That is not freedom; it is another attempt to control uncertainty by expecting pain before it arrives. The deeper invitation is to exchange the illusion of certainty for the practice of trust.

Trust is different from certainty. Certainty says, “I know what is going to happen.” Trust says, “I do not know what is going to happen, but I will meet it as consciously as I can.” Trust does not require us to pretend that we are unafraid. It allows us to acknowledge fear without handing fear complete authority over our lives. It reminds us that even when we cannot control an outcome, we may still choose how we will care for ourselves, how we will receive the love of others, and how we will respond to the moment before us. Uncertainty doesn't remove our ability to choose how we respond to it. 

One way of meeting uncertainty is through simple, embodied self-care. When anxiety rises, our thoughts often race into an imagined scenario. The body tightens—the stomach contracts. The chest feels heavy. We may try to reason ourselves out of fear, but that is working on fear at the level of ego. And if the ego is the origin of the fearfulness, then lessening fear is impossible. At such times, we can gently place a hand over the heart or the belly and acknowledge what is happening: I am frightened. I do not know what comes next. But I am here, and I will not abandon myself. This gesture does not magically remove uncertainty. It does something more realistic and perhaps more important: it brings love into the place where fear festers and panic arises. 

Fear does not always vanish in the presence of love, but it no longer has the overwhelming power it once did. And the loving presence of another person can do the same. A calm voice, an attentive listener, a hand that is held without explanation—these do not solve the unknown, but they help us remain connected to our soul. That is how we live with uncertainty: not by mastering the future, but by learning to stay present, grounded, connected, and compassionate when the future is unknown.

We may not know what tomorrow will bring. We do know that this moment is here. But we can breathe in it. We can care for ourselves within it. We can reach for someone we trust. We can take the next step without seeing the whole path. And sometimes, that next step is enough. Carl Jung said that in uncertainty, we simply do the next thing. 

This week, we will reflect on the fears that uncertainty triggers, the ways the body carries those fears, and the practices that can help us live without demanding guarantees from life.

The goal is not to become certain, but to become steady enough to live, love, and remain awake even when we are not certain. 

Spiritual Practice and Inquiry

List the spiritual ways you deal with uncertainty. Where did you get these practices? Did you develop them on your own? Do they work? 

Prayer

Dear God, 

I pray wholeheartedly for your strength and courage in my uncertainty.

Amen