04: Not Knowing What Comes Next
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I’m Denisa `O. Nica, and welcome to Walking Anyway. You’re listening to episode 4.
This is a podcast about living faithfully in uncertain seasons— when life feels unclear and nothing is quite settling yet.
If you carry questions and you’re not quite sure how to move through this in a way that feels steady and true, you’re in the right place to keep walking anyway.
I’m an author and spiritual director, and the founder of The Table—
a contemplative space shaped by a weekly rhythm, where women practice this kind of faithful living together, at their own pace, in the middle of their real lives and faith. I live in Spain, where life moves a little slower…and that has changed the way I pay attention to my own life.
Now for today’s episode, listen in.
There’s something I need to make a decision about right now. And the truth is, most of it is completely outside of my control. Which is not my favorite kind of situation. I wish it were.
I’m a planner. I like to know what’s coming. I like to organize things, prepare for things, think things through ahead of time. I like having a sense of where I’m going and how I’ll get there. And this… doesn’t have that.
Parts of it are unclear. Parts of it depend on other people. Parts of it just haven’t settled yet. And I can feel that tension building, that quiet pressure to decide, to respond, to move something forward.
But underneath all of that, I’m tired.
Not just of the decision itself, but of carrying something that doesn’t have a clear place to land.
And I notice it in my body too. I don’t have the same kind of energy I usually do. Sometimes my heart starts racing, even when I’m sitting still, and there’s this low, steady hum in the background that I can’t quite turn off.
And I think part of what makes this heavier right now is where I am in life. I’m somewhere in my mid-to-late 40s—46, to be exact—and I feel like this is the stage of life where you just… want things to land a little more. Like, can something just settle, please?
And when you move to a different continent after spending your entire adult life in one place, there’s a kind of vulnerability that comes with that.
Everything is newer. Less rooted. A little more exposed. The things that used to feel simple don’t always feel simple anymore. The systems aren’t fully built yet. The rhythms aren’t fully formed yet.
So your needs feel closer to the surface. You notice more. You feel more. There’s less margin for things that are uncertain or unresolved. And in the middle of all of that, I find myself here, with something that needs a decision, and no clear next step.
And this thought keeps coming up. I feel like I should know by now.
And maybe this is what happens at the beginning of summer too. Things just start to feel a little more real.
If you’re here too, somewhere between something that’s ending and something that hasn’t started yet, I want to stay here with you for a minute.
Because I think part of what makes this so hard is not just the uncertainty itself. It’s what uncertainty feels like.
For a long time, especially when I was a younger Christian, I would hear language like “walk by faith,” and I didn’t really know what to do with that.
Because in real life, not knowing what comes next doesn’t just feel unclear. It can feel dark.
And I realized at some point that my struggle wasn’t just with uncertainty.
It was with the way uncertainty felt like darkness, and the way darkness brought up fear in me.
There’s a line from Richard Rohr where he says that not knowing, that uncertainty, is a kind of darkness that many people find unbearable. And that felt true for me. Because I don’t think I was just trying to figure things out.
I was trying not to feel lost. Not to feel alone. Not to feel like I was walking without anything to hold onto.
But hear me out for a minute.
What if not knowing is not failure, but formation?
What if not knowing what comes next doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong?
What if this space, this in-between, unclear, unresolved place, is actually doing something in you?We often confuse clarity with faithfulness. We think being faithful means knowing what to do, having a clear next step, feeling certain about the direction we’re going. But maybe faithfulness looks more like being grounded right here.
You don’t need clarity about what comes next to stay faithful in what’s here. And not knowing doesn’t mean there’s an absence of guidance. And it doesn’t mean there’s an absence of God.
Sometimes it just means you’re in a place that hasn’t unfolded yet. The future is not something you control. It’s something you walk into.
And you don’t have to have the whole picture to take the next step that’s in front of you. So when you notice that pressure building, when things start to feel a little dark and you don’t know what to do, when you don’t know what’s coming next—and this could be about your life, your work, a relationship, or something very specific that you’re holding right now—come back to this question.
What do I know right now about this moment? Not about the future. Just about what is true here. Where am I? What’s in front of me? What feels real, even if it’s small?
And if it helps, you can say it out loud or write it down, just something that brings you back to what is real. You’re allowed not to know yet. And still be a whole person. Still be living your life. Still be right here.
Not knowing what comes next doesn’t mean you’re lost. It might mean you’re standing exactly where life is asking you to be.
And you don’t need to know what comes next to stay faithful in what’s here. Thanks for listening to episode 4 of Walking Anyway.
I hope this simple practice of coming back to what you do know helps you stay grounded and gently find your way forward. Just enough… to keep walking anyway.
Because the way you’re walking through this—right in the middle of what hasn’t settled yet—is already forming something steady in you.
If you’re wanting a place to actually practice this—not just think about it—you can begin with a 21-day guest seat inside The Table.
It’s a quiet space where you learn to stay with God in your real life and where you don’t have to do that on your own.
As always, you can find me at denisaonica.com., or on Instagram at denisa.o.nica
As you step back into your day, notice what stayed with you… and let that be enough for today. And just like light moving through a room—you don’t need to see everything at once to keep living faithfully here.
I want to leave you with these words from Jesus, in the Message translation: “I am the world’s light. No one who follows me stumbles around in darkness. I provide plenty of light to live in.”
Thanks for listening…and I’ll be here with you next time.