Bewilderment

I sat across from a man on the patio at Timberline last week who asked me how I wrestled with God. He asked me if I ever got angry with Him specifically about my cancer journey and the altered story that I now live because of it. He is navigating a similar story, and having known mine, had specific questions.

You likely do not share the exact experience the two of us do, but have you ever asked that question? Have you wondered how people facing devastating circumstances can remain faithful? Have you confronted your own fury at the brokenness of this world, and looked to God for explanations? How do we navigate our feelings of confusion, bewilderment, or utter disappointment because of pain and suffering? How do we do that with God?

It’s such an important question to ponder.

Growing up in Colorado, I've always prided myself on my sense of direction. The mountains are west, so everything else falls into place - north, east, south. It's our little Colorado secret. But take me outside of Colorado, and suddenly I'm joining the masses in total dependence on the sweet, calming voice of Siri. Without my phone's GPS in Southern California? You'd never find me again!

Remember the days of paper maps as big as windshields? Or actually talking to strangers for directions? How did we survive? It's wild to think about, right?

But here's the thing - bewilderment isn't just about physical direction. We live in a culture where things are changing at breakneck speed. We're overloaded with information, trying to keep up with world events and decipher which news is true. We're often overwhelmed, shocked by what we see on our TV screens - school shootings, global conflicts, rapid social changes.

Things that were once secure no longer feel secure. Institutions we once counted on - family, religion, the social fabric that connected us despite our differences - all seem to be eroding rapidly. For many of us, it feels like we can't keep up. It's hard to imagine the future without feeling a bit lost, a bit confused or bewildered.

 So, let me ask you: What bewilders you?

Sometimes, bewilderment looks like amazement or joy. "This is better than I could have dreamed!" But often, it looks more like disappointment. "This isn't how I thought my life would go." Maybe you didn't get into that dream school, or marry that person. Maybe you didn't expect that diagnosis, or thought your kids would turn out differently. Perhaps your finances took an unexpected turn, or your marriage isn't what you envisioned. Maybe you're struggling with mental health challenges of those closest to you, or the loss of a loved one.

We all have these moments. For better or worse, life never goes exactly as we plan.

I have wrestled deeply with my own suffering.

For me, seasons of suffering have felt like being tossed by a wave while surfing. You're underwater, disoriented, unsure which way is up. It's panic-inducing. It's felt like my whole world turned upside down.

Have you felt that?

The beautiful thing is, we're in good company. The Bible is full of accounts of people just like us - totally confused by what God was doing when it wasn't what they wanted or expected.

In Luke 24 two of Jesus' followers are walking away from Jerusalem, confused and heartbroken. Jesus has been crucified, and their hopes have been crushed. They had expected a powerful Messiah who would overthrow Rome and free Israel. Instead, Jesus died a criminal's death on a cross. How incredibly wrong it all seemed.

As they're walking and talking, Jesus himself approaches them - but they don't recognize him. He asks what they're discussing (as if he doesn’t know), and they pour out their confusion and disappointment. Then Jesus begins to teach them, showing how the Scriptures pointed to everything that had happened.

Later, when Jesus reveals himself to them, they exclaim, "Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?"

I love this story because it clearly reveals that God allows us to wrestle. Jesus didn't immediately reveal himself to these disciples. He walked with them, listened to them, and gently corrected their understanding. He allowed them to process their disappointment as they walked together.

So, how do we wrestle well in difficulties we find ourselves in?

I have a few questions for you to consider:

1. Do I know how to grieve?

It's tough to address disappointment without addressing grief. Our pain and suffering are never comfortable. We don't like it. We don't want it. So sometimes, we ignore it. We get busy. We distract ourselves. We have endless ways to try to escape or cope with the stresses of our lives. But here's the truth: the only way to move through grief is to grieve. If you ignore it, push it down, avoid it - it will still be there to deal with later. Months, years down the road. Allowing yourself to grieve is the only way to walk through grief, to move forward, to find new life on the other side.

2. Have you made space to connect with God in those places of your heart?

We've got to come before God with our pain, our failures, our hearts as they are. God wants you. He wants the core of you. He knows the core of you. And he still wants you. You are beloved and delighted in despite all your ugly. You don't have to fix yourself before coming to him.

In fact, I heard Tish Harrison Warren say, “The only way we can encounter Jesus is in our actual life.”

In the place you actually are, he invites you to wrestle before him, with him, alongside him. To be honest and real before him about your disappointment, your fear, your anger, your pain. The Psalms are full of every emotion expressed to God. Israel's name in Hebrew literally means "struggles or wrestles with God." You are allowed to wrestle with God, to process any tension that you feel.

Think of it like a boat in a storm. When a boat gets caught in a storm at sea, the protocol for survival is to face the storm directly and anchor down. If a wave catches the boat sideways, the chances of capsizing dramatically increase. The same applies to us in our grief and bewilderment. Face the storm. Anchor down with Jesus.

Get still. Get quiet. Get honest. Don't ignore it.

3. Do I have people in this with me?

We're more connected than we've ever been, and yet more lonely than ever. When it comes to the places in life where we feel upside down, where we feel disappointed, it's not hard to isolate. To go at it alone, to pull back and not let anyone in. But that is so dangerous. We were never meant to navigate life in isolation.

In the sport of wrestling, there's someone in the corner supporting the wrestler. These people see things the wrestler can't see. They coach, remind, support, encourage the wrestler. We all need people in our corner.

This may not be a huge list of people. In fact, when you're wrestling through heavy stuff, it's likely wise to keep that circle small. For me and my bewilderment, this looks like a few people who are safe. They are good listeners. They don't try to fix me. They are the people who pray the prayers I can't always pray. Who remember me, who see me, who even fight for me when I need it.

Who are the people in your corner? If you have them, I encourage you to text them right now. Tell them and thank them for being in your corner.

4. Is there a perspective I don't see from here?

In my own moments of bewilderment, I've found myself coming back again and again to perspective. Asking God to give me perspective. To see things at a different level - to trust there is a bigger story that I don't see from where I'm looking.

We are part of a much bigger story than just ours. God's big story - from Genesis to Revelation - God has been pursuing us, redeeming us. And it's not over yet.

Think about Paul, who wrote much of our New Testament through letters to different early churches. He was called by God to minister to the Gentiles, to go to the world to proclaim the gospel. He was ready to go, and instead found himself imprisoned. Literally stuck in one location. Talk about confusing.

So what does he do? He writes letters. I imagine him writing them with frustration. Settling for plan B, bewildered. This wasn't the plan. Was this really what you called me to, God? Did I hear you right the first time?

Little did he know what those letters would mean to us some 2000 years later.

Within God's big story, there is perspective. A 30,000-foot view that looks much different from where you're standing at ground zero. Things that totally consumed us in a moment will look different 5, 10, 50 years later.

We may get clarity, we might not. We may not ever understand the 'whys' of our suffering in this lifetime. But trusting God, trusting His big story, and His perspective - will give us hope, and it will give us a different way to see our circumstances.

Often we filter God through our circumstances. We get crushed, and we see God through that lens - we blame God for falling asleep at the wheel, accuse him of being apathetic, maybe even cruel. But what we ought to do is filter our circumstances through what we know to be true of God.

 To do that - to get acquainted with the character of God - we've got to be deeply acquainted with this story (the Bible). We see this on the road to Emmaus, they said, "Didn't our hearts burn within us when he explained the scriptures to us."

You want to discover what God is like? He has given us the Bible. It's our book. If you've never read it, it can be confusing to know where to start. I highly recommend checking out The Bible Project (bibleproject.org) for some great resources. And I encourage you to get in a small group. Find other people who are curious, who are committed to discovering and wrestling with our book.

Another way to connect yourself to God's perspective is to create some practices of remembering and gratitude. The way to cultivate trust is to discover the character of God through scripture and through experience. Ask him where he has shown up in your life. Remember where you've seen him. And hold those closely in your heart and mind.

I have a prayer wall in my office that has become this for me. It's like an altar. This is the place I write prayers, impossible prayers. Prayers that are beyond what I can do with my own two hands. I have three sections: prayers (things I'm asking for), answers (things once asked for), and miracles. It's very fun and very powerful. And as he answers, as he shows up - I see and remember and worship. And as I come back to ask and dream and wrestle, I am reminded how He has consistently shown up for me before.

I don't know how you feel coming to this as you read. What's on your heart, what's on your mind. How easy or hard it feels for you to trust God in the midst of your wrestling. Where it feels easy - praise God. Where it feels hard, dare I say impossible to trust God, if that is where you find yourself today - may you know that God delights in you. And desires to meet you in the actual experience of your actual life.

If we are faithless, he remains faithful. God allows us to wrestle. And he is with us every step of the way.