When “I Don’t Know” Is an Honest Answer

Aloha Friends,

Last week, we paused to make room for care, rest and presence. Sometimes, simply being beside someone without asking them to explain everything is a meaningful place to begin.

But eventually, we may ask a young person, “How are you doing?” and hear a familiar answer.

“I don’t know.”

Perhaps they shrug, look away or become irritated. We may wonder whether they are avoiding the conversation. But sometimes, they really do not know. They feel something, yet finding words for it is difficult. Can we be honest? Some of us adults, (me, included) do the same exact thing at times.

I have a dear friend and sister in Christ who became a single mother, and her son, at first glance, can seem a bit intimidating. He is a big, Polynesian boy. But what impresses me so much is how she has empowered him with language, space and tools to handle his emotions. As a thirteen-year-old, he is sometimes helping adults communicate.

If we want to help our young people process emotions without numbing, we can begin by helping them recognize what they feel.

Imagine a young person who comes home from school and disappears into their phone. When we ask what happened, they say, “Nothing.” Later, we learn that their friends made plans without them. We see the withdrawal or the sharp response. Underneath, they may feel hurt, embarrassed, lonely or angry. Perhaps several things at once.

This is in no way an excuse for poor behavior, but a gentle reminder that we want to get to the root of a matter and that can take time, patience and wisdom.

“My friends left me out” describes an experience. “I feel hurt because I wanted to belong” begins to express what that experience meant.

That gives us somewhere to begin caring for them.

Sometimes we move toward correction before we understand. We say, “Don’t be so sensitive,” or “Just pray about it.” We may intend to encourage them, but they may hear that their feelings are unwelcome.

We can respond gently: “That sounds painful. I wonder if you felt left out.”

We offer a word without insisting we have understood correctly. They may agree or tell us, “Actually, I was embarrassed.” Either answer helps us listen.

Hannah’s story gives us a picture of why this matters.

In 1 Samuel 1, Hannah was grieving because she could not have children, and another woman repeatedly provoked her. She wept and could not eat. Her husband loved her, but his questions did not seem to reach the depth of her sorrow. Later, even the priest Eli misunderstood her. Seeing her lips move without hearing her voice, he assumed she was drunk.

Hannah explained that she was deeply troubled and had been pouring out her soul before the Lord.

I wonder how often we misunderstand a young person because we see their behavior before we hear their heart. We notice the irritability, silence or withdrawal, but we have not yet understood what hurts.

Hannah brought her distress to God while it was still unresolved. Our young people can learn to do the same.

“God, I feel lonely.”

“I am angry about what happened.”

“I’m hurting, and I don’t know how to explain it yet.”

These are honest beginnings to prayer. We do not have to find beautiful words before we come to Him.

Naming an emotion does not mean every thought attached to it is true or every response

is wise.

We can acknowledge anger while holding a boundary against hurting someone. We can listen to feelings of rejection while gently questioning the belief that nobody loves them.

There is room for both compassion and guidance.

A Family Practice: Finding a Word

This week, during a quiet moment, ask, “What is one feeling you noticed today?” Offer a few possibilities: glad, sad, worried, angry, lonely, disappointed or hopeful.

Go first. You might say, “I felt disappointed when my plans changed. I needed a little time before I could talk about it.”

Let each person answer—or pass. If someone shares, ask, “Would you like to tell me more?” There is no need to turn their answer into a lesson.

With practice, “I don’t know” may become, “I think I’m hurt. Can we talk?”

And when feelings seem too big to put into words, we can help young people settle before asking them to explain. We will explore that next week.

May His Kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven.

With love,



Joshua and the Explicit Movement ʻOhana