To Be Confounded

As of Monday, I am officially back in school full time.  I am so grateful to be in such great classes with first-rate professors.  I am more convinced than ever that I am meant to do what I am working so hard towards, which is being an English professor.  Things keep falling into place; I simply cannot deny it.  So, here is a sample of some of my first writings from this new semester.  I was inspired by the musical piece "Te Deum" by John Rutter, specifically by the phrase "O Lord, in Thee have I trusted; let me never be confounded." , and the words to the piece prompted the following writing:

I Am Confounded

To be confounded.  Why not use the words confused, afraid, scared or unsure?  Confounded.  It is beyond confused, and beyond afraid, scared and unsure.  It is a feeling that there is almost not words to describe, and yet there is, and it is confounded.  I thought I knew what that word meant.  I thought I had lived and experienced what it means to be confounded.  Geometry as a sophomore in high school was a time of confoundedness that produced some of the most frustrating feelings I ever had.  I just did not  understand it! I was confounded – beyond the normal “I just don’t get it” that comes with math. 

On January 16, 1996 my best friend that I grew to love like a brother, Dan, died.  Again, I was brought to my knees, paralyzed by pain I did not know existed, and there were those feelings of confoundedness I had not known before.  I questioned and pleaded with God – why  and the  question of why is the keystone of confoundedness.  And it is the why that caused great despair and sadness, which caused further confoundedness in me.

And then there is the opposite kind of confounded.  The kind that entered like a meteorite, changing the landscape of my being forever, and that is the level of confounded that without hesitation appeared the second, the literal instant I became a parent.  That baby, her beautiful eyelashes, lips and nose – her tiny body, perfect head, little hands and the sweetest, most heart-achingly, precious cry I had ever heard.  It was her that instituted confounded in a way that nothing else before or since.  I was confounded with joy. 

I am time and time again confounded by the power and far-reaching influence of music.  The capacity to stand arrested, astonished by its influence and authority leaves me lying in Confounded’s wake, touched and moved to a place that is sacred, that is mine, and it is my communion with God.  The brilliant musical works of Handel combined with the inspired words of Isaiah lead to a type of confounded that has the power to change lives, inspire improvement and become the balm of Gilead that heals wounds that would otherwise be incapable of healing.

It is in the simple things that confoundedness can be found.  A fiery sunset, a perfect, full moon, a glowing, autumn day all have potential to create a state of confounded that should be a regular part of human life.  For if we can learn to be confounded by the small and simple, then we experience the sense of wonderment, gratitude and humility that contribute to greater contentment and happiness.  And that, to me, is the catalyst for true confoundedness.