Ever been angry with God?
I wouldn't have admitted that before this week. But let's be honest. He could fix all this. But he just keeps telling me His Grace is sufficient. I'm finding this colliding place between my will and God's plan a very hard place. There is no comfort in not knowing when or even if God is going to end this particular trial. At least in this lifetime. He demands trust from us, plain and simple. Sometimes I forget how to do that, I rely only on what I can see and feel, in this case, cold, and forget that He has asked me to keep my eyes and focus on Him, though there may be a maelstrom going on around me.
Brought the dogs back and tinkered with it for awhile. It was maddening. It would light just fine. I would sit with it awhile and as soon as I turned the corner to go back upstairs I would hear that little plink. The sound of the gas shutting off. Finally I just shut it down and went upstairs and began to cry. I don't mean a little. I mean I got angry with myself, with the situation, with the house. With God.
I went to a dark place. Not someplace I visit often. Not a place I ever want to go. But occasionally I find myself there. Could not be consoled. Face swollen, heart breaking, I told God exactly what I thought about all this. Told Him I was mad. Really let Him have it.
Late in the afternoon I came to my senses, all at once. Got up, moved on with life. Then came the guilt. How could I be angry with a God who has shown me in a million different ways how much He loves me, cares for me. In the past I have dined at a pretty fabulous table with Him, right in the presence of my enemies, and swore I would never doubt his love again.
I felt so faithless and ashamed. And afraid. Guess I was afraid God would be mad at me for some of the awful, awful things I said. The feeling stayed with me most of the day.
The next morning I called someone to help me with the fireplace. He worked for an hour, did some deeper cleaning than I had done, and when he left it was working fine and with the house finally warming up a little. I went to sleep feeling a little better.
When I got up this morning one of the very first things I read was a blog post by a lady named Mary DeMuth called When Hollering is Prayer. My mouth hit the floor. Well not really, but my mind snapped to complete attention. She relates a time she was angry with God, and broken, she let loose and yelled at Him, because she had lost a baby in the womb.
I have never lost something as precious as a child. I've had some trials, but I am truly aware that my life is not filled with that kind of suffering. That's on a whole 'nother level. But it spoke to me. Like an arrow straight to the heart. I felt like God was giving me a pat on the shoulder, telling me it was all going to be OK. Not a pass on the temper tantrum. I had to repent for that, but an arm around the shoulder, as I read Mary's words.
And I just couldn't believe the timing.
God's timing. And isn't what all this is about? I had been hyper aware of the conjunction of Advent, and the coincidence of The Mr. losing his job the very week the Holidays began, but in the days following, I guess I had forgotten what the message was all about. The Advent Season, Waiting on God. The season of waiting for the Christ Child to be born and now, in our day, waiting for His return. And in between the two a lifetime of waiting on His perfect timing to work out our lives according to His plan. You see, My plan is for things to always work. For nothing to ever go wrong. No broken cars, no broken dryers, no broken fireplaces. No cold. No sickness. No Grandmas dying of horrible diseases. To never have to wait for anything. For life to be smooth and my feelings unruffled. To have a smile on my face always and never give into the intense emotions that come with being human. Unless it's joy, of course. I like that intense emotion. But that would be Utopia. And we don't get that here.
His plan takes none of my comfort preferences into account. His plan is to conform me to His son. Form me into His holy image. And again, let's be honest, much of the time there is not much that is holy about this girl. He's got a lot of work to do. A LOT of work, if this particular day is any indication.
I don't really recommend hollering at God.
It's a dark and scary place to be. But if it happens, know this. God isn't thrown by your hollering. And He isn't angry about it. He is patient. When you finally attain sanity again, He will be there. And He is faithful. Even when we are not.
And you will get through this. And joy waits on the other side. Not manufactured "it's what Christians are supposed to do" plastered on smiles of something you don't really feel joy, but true face wreathing smiles of great joy that God is who He said He is.
Deliverer. Comforter. Good, Good, Father.
Even if everything in the house breaks down. He is still our Good, Good, Father. He will sustain us with his Grace and Peace. If we wait on Him.
I would do well to remember that.
No comments:
Post a Comment