I am enrolling myself in a course to finally be okay with the unknowing.

A woman on the street came up to me and my girlfriend and told us that she needed some money to take a cap to a cancer treatment clinic by an hour from when we met her. Her name was Tiffany. She told us about her struggles being homeless and how people pretend not to see her, how even people who say they'll help just disappear into their apartments or public venues. We listened to her for about 20 minutes, and my gut told me that she was being genuine, that this wasn't a scheme that we stereotypically attribute to the possibility of homeless people swindling us. She told us that she was bleeding, and turned around to show us the blood on her pants.

We walked to the local 7-11 with her and my girlfriend brought her pads, while I took out $20 from the ATM to give to her. As we exited the store, the cashier gave us a curious look, but I didn't care. Tiffany hugged the two of us goodbye and we went about our ways.

I don't know if Tiffany was hustling us, even though I genuinely don't believe she was. I don't know if she was able to get to her cancer treatment clinic.

And it's alright that I don't know, because lately I realize I have been obsessed with needing to know things and thinking I have to know everything. Because Tiffany's life isn't any of my business, and the most I could do is supporting her with what she needed and where she wanted to go.

My student told me in my self-contained, special ed classroom that the last place she'd want to be is with her father. My imagination could have made all sorts of conjectures as to why, but I don't need to know until she feels ready to tell me. Again, it's not any of my business, and I don't know where she's coming from, even though it's my job to support her the best I can. The cliche mantra that life is a marathon, not a sprint, is especially true to my job teaching in an inner-city Baltimore with profound traumas and tough circumstance. It means that patience and grace, with yourself as well as students, is as important as anything else.

I wonder all the time why God lets good people suffer. I asked my pastor about it, and all he said was "Ryan, I've been wondering this question for my whole life. I don't know." Trusting God also means not knowing, not knowing why a good God will let mass shootings happen across the country and homicides happen almost every day in my city. Trusting God means to go on, even when things don't make any sense.

I'll have a beer or a couple almost every day. I know it's not good for me, but it helps unwind, even if the Friday evening Happy Hours with my friends it tends to be more than a couple. I don't know if I will go tomorrow not having a drink. I don't know if it matters in the first place, because

As a teacher, I have the dreaded Imposter Syndrome thought after every lesson: "did the kids actually learn anything from me?" Until they're assessed on what I taught them, I will never know, and I need to be okay with the unknowing. I just taught my first week of school, and I have no idea if my kids like me or respect me. I have to be okay with that.

I don't know if I can go on a run at all every day. I run marathons, and I'm training for another marathon right now, although this time, the training is going much more sporadically and poorly. I have to be okay with not knowing if I can run every day, let alone finish my next marathon.

I don't know if my family is doing alright. I'm not the best about keeping in touch with my family, and my mind can run into circles thinking about the worst that can happen, or the worst that did happen in the past happening again. I have to be okay, for now, not knowing.

Of course, one day I'll have to know all these things. They're all important, whether it's the health of my parents and my brother, or the educational progress of my students, or the family histories of my students. As a Christian, I believe in the assurance of salvation, but sometimes I fail and mess up so bad I doubt I'm going to Heaven.

Socrates once said the paradox that "I am the wisest man alive, for I know one thing, and that is that is that I know nothing."

So perhaps that makes me wise, too, to realize I know nothing, about the past, present, and future. It will be important for me to know all these pressing things, but I will never reach the God standard. I will never know completely and be perfect, so maybe, for now, it's time to be okay and stop reaching for it.