Nothing gets under my skin more than a question I cannot answer and the sheer audacity of someone to ask it. Yet the irony is not lost on me. We rarely recognize the flaw in our own behavior until we see it mirrored back through someone else. That realization alone should prompt change.

When Authority Is Mistaken for Control

My eight-year-old son has a way of expecting me to fix things that are completely out of my control. He will say,

“Mom, it’s raining. When is it going to stop?” I tell him, “I don’t know. I cannot control the weather.”

Other times, he comes to me frustrated, nearly panicked.

“Mom, YouTube is loading slow. What’s wrong with it? Why is it not working?”

My answer, a simple “I don’t know,” never satisfies him. What follows is persistence, repeated questions, and an unspoken plea for me to fix what I clearly cannot.

In his mind, I am the authority. And to him, authority means control. If something is beyond his reach but within mine, then surely I must have the power to resolve it. Still, I find myself responding the same way, reminding him that I cannot fix everything and urging him to stop asking questions I cannot answer.

The Reflection We Cannot Avoid

Then I had to pause and look at myself.

How many times have I taken my frustrations out on people who had no control over my situation? How often have I asked “why” when I already knew there was no answer anyone could give me? The issue is not the question itself. It is the repetition, the persistence, the returning again and again to the same person with the same burden, knowing they lack the capacity to resolve it.

The Need Beneath the Question

So why do we do this?

In moments of uncertainty, especially when fear or disruption enters our lives, we search for answers because answers feel like control. When those answers do not come, our anxiety grows. The problem remains, the discomfort lingers, and we feel unheard, even when no one could fix it in the first place.

Learning Compassion Without Losing Awareness

Life offers lessons daily if we are willing to receive them. Sometimes those lessons come through reflection, through seeing ourselves in others, and through recognizing the weight of our own actions.

I am learning to have more compassion for the person who is asking. Often, they are not searching for a solution as much as they are seeking relief. There is comfort in being able to voice fear, to not feel alone in uncertainty. The reassurance does not always come from having the answer but from knowing someone cares enough to listen.

At the same time, I am learning restraint. Once can be enough. It is okay to ask. It is okay to seek understanding. But it is also necessary to recognize others’ limits. It is unfair to place expectations on someone to carry a weight they were never meant to hold. When both of us know the situation is beyond their control, continuing to press the issue only transfers frustration, not resolution.

Choosing Mindfulness in Both Directions

Moving forward, I want to respond with more patience and less dismissal. I want to remember that I have stood in that same place, searching for answers that did not exist. And in turn, I want to be more mindful of where I take my own questions.

Before I place something on someone else, I will consider their capacity, their limitations, and the emotional toll of not being able to help. I will be more intentional about what I ask and of whom I ask it.

There are some questions that no person can answer. Some frustrations that no one can fix. In those moments, I have to develop the tools to sit with discomfort, to process it, and to release it where it belongs. Some answers are not immediate. Some may never come. And some are simply not meant to be carried by anyone other than the Creator.

What We Learn If We Pay Attention

I hope the lessons that show up in our daily experiences, in conversations, and in quiet observations are not wasted on us. I hope we begin to recognize our own patterns reflected in others and allow that awareness to move us toward growth.

If nothing else is taken from this, let it be this: consider others. Consider their capacity. Consider their burden. And move with care.