We sat at “The Sandbar” restaurant, overlooking white sand and breaking waves, while hiding from the onslaught of August’s sunshine. Somewhere between my Island Salad and my Chicken Quesadilla, I noticed two dark slits just a few degrees above the horizon, with a foggy gray haze below.
I watched them endlessly–Drew barely able to maintain a conversation with me.
After bringing them up about a half-dozen times, he gave in and we settled on the fact that they were helicopters. Hovering. Slightly moving, but mainly hovering.
Of course, when he stepped up from his seat, ready to leave, I couldn’t help but steal one more glance out the window.
He appeasingly rattled off:
“They could be armed forces, running a mission.”
“Or coast guard, saving someone.”
“Or scientists studying something.”
I was satisfied, and we left.
And, I couldn’t help but think: That’s me. That’s what I do when something in life doesn’t make sense to me. I think about it. I talk about it. I stare at it. I practically study it. I don’t like it when things don’t make sense. I will make them make sense, even if it’s wrong–if I’m wrong. I’d rather have order and reason than have chaos and irrationality.
But, I’m learning to accept that some things don’t make sense. Some things just are as they are. And there’s no way to change them or understand them. I’m getting there. Slowly.
But, in the meantime: how do you handle the things of life that just don’t make sense sometimes?
So heavy. I think I complain about them incessantly, my form of thinking/studying them that you’re talking about. There’s got to be a better way…
….. maybe we can just accept–instead of the control that comes in understanding something. At least, that’s what I’m starting to learn. I’m starting to learn that I don’t have to “control” things by my knowledge–my understanding–my ability to grasp what is going on and stay cognitively on top of things.
The world will not overpower me just because I don’t understand it.
At times, I do this:
I listen to Sara Groves, particularly “The Word” and “Hello Lord”
And I listen to them on repeat for an enormously extended period of time.
Just to let God pour into me what I KNOW to be true, and to let that be my mantra, because it’s exhausting throwing my hands up in the air all the time. Guess my arms get tired or something.
OR….
I try to analyze it. I try to problem solve. I try to “look on the bright side”, which leaves me feeling more depressed and empty sometimes.
I try to relinquish control in any small way I can, and it makes me feel like that squirrel on Ice Age who is constantly getting the crap beat out of him for a stupid acorn.
(confession: her songs, albeit deep and revelatory, are too complex to be catchy for me.)
(confession again: the whole “look on the bright side” mentality doesn’t work for me either)
interesting. does it have to be catchy?
It doesn’t have to be, but it helps. I get lost in her songs in a bad way–the complexity is uncomfortable to my ears. Like there’s nothing to grab on to. Except that one song that repeats the phrase “The Word.”
Her stuff is incredibly profound. I’ve always valued the messages in her music. And I’ve tried so hard to push away my misgivings with the sound of it, so I could say “yeah man…. I’m a fan.”
I feel like such a music snob for writing this. But I’ve felt that way about her stuff since it came out. Since before I really got into songwriting. Only now do I really understand that it’s her phrasings and melodies that I find uncomfortable.
But then I wonder how I can be a fan of Regina Spektor or St. Vincent, in all their complexities, but not dig Sara Groves. I don’t know.
I try to figure out a way to make it make sense. I create a story around it in order to make it fit within the context of my understanding. I want the world to make sense. But here lately God has been asking me to trust the story He is telling and even if today it doesn’t make sense, trust Him and in the end it just might make sense to me. Not so easy to do but then again I’m a control freak and that’s really my problem.
For some reason, your words brought this back to my mind:
“The only thing worse than waiting on God’s timing is wishing that you had.”
I saw it on @CindyBeall’s twitter feed this weekend.
I talk to my hubby about it, and I text my best friend about it. I beat the crud out of that horse… and then I feel better.. and usually regret the “beating”. I’m still learning…
And lately… I’m practicing “arrow prayers”. Just shooting up quick prayers to Jesus… and the more I try it the more I think that might be what “praying unceasingly” looks like. I mean, really, we can’t spend all day on our knees, but our heart can sure maintain that posture even while we wipe snotty noses, make bottles, and sing silly songs
Good thoughts, Katie… & Where’d you get that phrase for “arrow prayers?” Did you come up with that?
floatin’ on de-nial!
(get it?… the nile. da nile. de-nial.)
alright.
haha
i throw myself on the ground, kicking and screaming, and all red in the face.
or maybe that’s what i did about 25 years ago…
but i confess. it’s still what i do on the inside sometimes. when something super big doesn’t make sense. when it feels chaotic. when i’m looking at those darn waves and those pesky storm clouds, instead of at my master, who’s totally got this.
and then sometimes, i make up a story and say it out loud as if i know ALL about it. and sometimes people believe me. and that makes me laugh on the inside.
i’ve been known to do that last one, too.
When things don’t make sense (as has been the case a lot recently) I find myself trying to analyze and make sense – to the extent that I have been getting depressed and not able to sleep.
I hear you, Bajan… I finally had to stop analyzing–stop asking questions–because I couldn’t handle the answers, the potential answers, or the lack of answers. I think sometimes it’s better to just turn my brain off and push through, refocus, and keep moving. What does Dorie say in Nemo? “Just keep swimming.”
I pretty much do exactly what you do.
… and then what happens?
Totally get it … we just miscarried and I’m totally at a loss of understanding. Nothing makes sense right now….
I am so so so unspeakably sorry, Heather… Our miscarriage was the hardest week of my life. An absolute heartwrenching nightmare. Not to say that I know what you’ve gone through, because it’s different for everyone. But just to say that I’m so sorry. And, you’re right, nothing makes sense after something like that.
Heather – I am so sorry for you loss. The pain of a miscarriage is so different for each couple. I will pray for you and your family.
what’s in an island salad?