Searching for Clarity

There are a lot of things that are uncertain in my right now. And that is not a comfortable feeling.

I miss the warmth of familiar, the embrace of the everyday. 

But right now I just feel like my world of the routine is gone altogether, ripped to shreds while I am still grasping at the air where it slipped through my fingers.

My brain is constantly trying to determine why everything has been flipped and shaken and shuffled. 

In fact I can't sleep because of it.

Barely at all.

I'm averaging about four hours a night.

And for someone with chronic migraines that is not a good thing. 

Actually it is rather bad.

I am always fighting to stay awake, always fighting to stay focused, and currently I feel like I am losing. Miserably.

I feel at times like I am hanging on a hair, thin and fragile, filled with breaks and split ends, awaiting the moment when I will plummet. 

But in this moment there is some clarity in the sleep-vision goggles. Here in this realm of  exhaustion there is some odd sense of perspective. 

It's like God is this chef, brewing a stew. He adds some ingredients to the mix and stirs the pot to make sure the flavors fuse. He has to make sure all of the vegetables are fully cooked and that the stew is it's very best. And we just have to trust that he knows the recipe. 

There are a lot of things that are uncertain in my right now. And that is not a comfortable feeling.

But there are certain moment in the midst of this chaos that are filled with clarity. And these moments, however brief, are what are keeping me going, because they remind me that there is a purpose for the heat and the spices and the grief.