We See in Part

Over the years, I have become more confident in the lessons life has taught me. I understand the value of process, the inevitability of change, and the role pain can play in shaping us. There are moments I can look back on and say, with conviction, that they made me stronger, wiser, and more aware. These are the stories we often tell, the lessons we pass on.

But not every experience offers that clarity. Some realities remain unsettling. Some questions do not invite tidy conclusions. There are moments when I am forced to admit that I do not know enough, not about pain, not about justice, not about why some things happen the way they do.

Recently, my friend asked me a question that stopped me in my tracks. It was raw and personal, and it cut through every framework I usually rely on to process difficulty. In that moment, I realised again that our perspective, no matter how deep or thoughtful, is still limited.

This is where the words of Paul in 1 Corinthians 13 make sense to me: “We know in part.” It is a humbling admission. No matter how wise or experienced we become, we are still seeing fragments. We interpret life through partial knowledge, incomplete stories, and unfinished processes. Sometimes, we are simply too far from the full picture to say anything with confidence.

That does not mean everything is meaningless. It simply means we must approach life with more humility. We can hold convictions and still be gentle. We can speak truth while acknowledging that we do not see the whole. We can sit with people in their pain without rushing to explain it away.

There is a quiet kind of wisdom in restraint. There is value in saying “I do not know” when it is the truest thing you can say. I am learning to make peace with that. I am learning to listen more, and to let silence be part of the conversation when the weight of a moment demands it.

If I have anything to offer, it is not a full explanation of life’s hardest questions. It is a commitment to be present, to be honest, and to keep learning, even from what I do not understand.

Nugget: Understanding is a gift, not a guarantee. In the gaps, let humility speak.