So I’m actually writing this because I haven’t written in a while and so I feel like I should have something to say. But truthfully, I don’t have much to say. Normally I write once an issue has been resolved or an event is over. But this time everything is still unclear. I find myself left with questions.

What is love?

What is this the time for?

Who do I want to be?

Who am I now?

Why are things that seem wrong right and vice versa?

Is it ever wrong to ask how someone is doing? 

Is it ever wrong to care?

What is most important to me? 

I am stumbling around trying to understand these questions. I’m tempted to say some of them can’t be understood or answered. But that doesn’t mean that the questions are wrong.

I easily get frustrated with confusion. I don’t like guessing. I don’t like it when I have no plan. I want a level of certainty in my life; so questions without answers bother me. I tend to internally freak out and shut down when I don’t know what to do. Normally this is when I do what I should have done in the first place: I ask God what to do. But then, more often than not, there is silence. Why does there have to be silence? So this time I didn’t ask God to make all the confusion go away. I didn’t ask Him to show me how my life will play out or how I should act. This time I asked Him for peace.

I don’t understand it, this peace. But it’s there even though there is no “reason” for it. It defies nature and it defies my ever important feelings. But it’s there.

I like knowing things, but sometimes knowing isn’t what’s important. Without confusion, how can we learn faith?

So here I am writing. Completely confused. Unsure how to carry on. Stuck in a predicament. And  here I am — at peace.