Confusion

 Confusion

     Last winter I was shopping at Wal-Mart when all of a sudden something struck me.  I forgot why I was there.  I drew a total blank.  I knew I was there to shop, but what for I had no idea.  To complicate matters I forgot which door I came through and where I parked my car.  I was totally confused.  Sadly this has become a part of my normal life and I haven't quite unlocked how to fix it.  I forget to text, I have forgotten to pay bills, I have missed appointments, and there is probably a long list of things that I have neglected regarding my job.  It is so extremely difficult to focus.  I have adopted using a calendar and alarms, but even those aren't adequate.  There are times when my alarm goes off and I have no idea why I set the alarm.  It's extremely frustrating because my current ministry is extremely demanding and I know that my grief has stolen my sharp mind that used to never forget a single thing.  One of the most shocking effects of grief has been grief fog, or the attacks of confusion.  I say shocking because there are certain things that I predicted regarding grief, but other things, still to this day, catch me off guard.  I thought I knew how sorrow would look. I thought that tears would come, sadness would linger, and then slowly life would move forward.  But grief hasn't followed a straight line.  It feels like a toddler making a map out of finger paint.  One day I feel a strange strength, and the next day I crumble over something as stupid as one of her socks that I found under the bed or hearing her favorite song in the grocery store.  Sometimes I feel joy when I remember the way she used to sing, only to feel guilt knowing that I won't hear her sing on this side of heaven again.

      The confusion is because you feel so many things at the same time.  The human heart, mind, and soul aren't capable of feeling all of those things.  It's like an emotional traffic jam.  I've been in Uganda for the past week and traffic in Kampala is terrible.  Around four in the afternoon everything comes to a gridlock.  It's not like American traffic that still has a semblance of order, this is total chaos.  Cars in the wrong lane, roads washed away because of the rain, the constant movement of thousands of boda-boda's (motorcycles), and the total absence of traffic lights make for quite a long commute.  As we sat in a traffic jam today I felt like it perfectly pictured my grief journey.  Gridlocked emotions and utterly confused.  Fathom for a moment the rush of love, loss, anger, hope, emptiness, loneliness, for me personally the development of new love, and longing.  I've wondered if I'm grieving the right way.  Just a side note, there really isn't a right way to grieve.  You might think you have the monopoloy or right way to grieve, but until you have sat in sackcloth and ashes you probably have no idea how to manage the confusion of grief.  The only right way to grieve is to trust Jesus without fail.  I have even asked myself if I am broken beyond repair because my faith is so weak at times.

      God has been teaching me that grief doesn't follow by my rules.  It doesn't paint in the lines like I had hoped that it would.  It doesn't stay in neat boxes or move in predictable steps.  It's a winding road, and often I dont' know what the next bend will bring.  One day you are ready to confidently move forward and the next you feel like you made little if any headway in your grief.  And yet, even in the confusion, God is steady.  My grief might be predictable, but He remains unfailingly constant.  

      The Scripture teaches us that God is not a God of confusion, but of peace (1st Cor. 14:33).  I realize that this passage talks about the orderly manner of how affairs are conducted in church, but I think there is a much greater application.  Like, while my heart feels like chaos, He is not off His throne.  He understands my every tear, every surge of emotion that I can't untangle.  He understands my lonely heart as I lay in an empty bed or sit at a dining room table with an extra empty chair.  In a very transparent way, He understands how I miss being touched, hugged, general affection, and being kissed.  He understands my wants and my needs and my desires.  I may not always understand my grief, but God always understands me.  This goes for all people who are grieving, grief is utter confusion.  It turns our lives upside down.  Some days you probably miss the old you, some days you struggle to embrace the good future that God is laying out before you, some days you move from fast forward to rewind.  And you know what, it's ok.  Grief isn't meant to make sense, that's why we desperately need the Lord.

      So I raised the white flag to the question, "am I doing this right."  Instead, I'm learning to bring my messy, confusing, and grieving heart to God each day.  He doesn't ask me to sort it out, to figure it out, or to put the puzzle together.  Instead He simply invites me to come.  And, in the midst of confusion, His peace has slowly, quietly met me.