As I sat surrounded by people praising God, I was sobbing on the floor. People around me were thanking Him for the good, the bad, the ugly, and the beautiful. I was questioning whether God was good at all. They were joyful and I was crushed. I sat there sobbing because I wanted so bad to fully trust God and that He is good. I wanted to trust His plans are perfect for His creation. I want to believe that everything is under His hand.
But I don’t and I’m not lying to myself about it anymore.
In late winter/early spring of this year I finally got mad. I was bitter that God had allowed me to go through so many hard things and that I couldn’t understand how to turn them from liabilities to assets. I felt weighed down with the weight of my life and could not think of any ways I could use them to glorify God. I thought there will be opportunities on the Race, but there weren’t any in the moment. That was the first time I ever told God I was mad at Him. I laid sobbing in my bed, asking why over and over again.
Since then I’ve been wrestling with God on this subject and recognizing more and more all the ways I don’t trust Him. I wrote about one way in my last blog. I have always felt the need to take care of myself because there was no one else to do it. In my journal a few weeks ago, I was writing to God and started crying as I confessed my fear that this next year would be just another train-wreck of a decision…
As I sat sobbing at the back of the room, Jesus came to meet with me. He sat cross-legged in front of me and waited. I couldn’t look up at Him. Questions and hurt shook my body. God came next, grabbing Jesus’ shoulder gently, signifying He could leave. Then God sat down cross-legged in front of me. I cried harder and tensed up when he slowly reached out to comfort me. I thanked Him for the brokenness and that I was finally at this place with Him. This story doesn’t yet have “a happily ever after, but this was something new, something sacred and holy.
I know that God is sitting here with me, patiently waiting. I’m just not ready yet. I am so thankful for his gentle tenderness that will never force me.
A year and a half ago someone asked me if I was mad at God and I said no. She pushed harder, but I didn’t feel angry towards God. He was my literal saving grace is all I could think. I knew I didn’t understand why so much hurt and pain had come, but I knew He had been there since the beginning of it all.
In late winter/early spring of this year I finally got mad. I was bitter that God had allowed me to go through so many hard things and that I couldn’t understand how to turn them from liabilities to assets. I felt weighed down with the weight of my life and could not think of any ways I could use them to glorify God. I thought there will be opportunities on the Race, but there weren’t any in the moment. That was the first time I ever told God I was mad at Him. I laid sobbing in my bed, asking why over and over again.
Since then I’ve been wrestling with God on this subject and recognizing more and more all the ways I don’t trust Him. I wrote about one way in my last blog. I have always felt the need to take care of myself because there was no one else to do it. In my journal a few weeks ago, I was writing to God and started crying as I confessed my fear that this next year would be just another train-wreck of a decision…
As I sat sobbing at the back of the room, Jesus came to meet with me. He sat cross-legged in front of me and waited. I couldn’t look up at Him. Questions and hurt shook my body. God came next, grabbing Jesus’ shoulder gently, signifying He could leave. Then God sat down cross-legged in front of me. I cried harder and tensed up when he slowly reached out to comfort me. I thanked Him for the brokenness and that I was finally at this place with Him. This story doesn’t yet have “a happily ever after, but this was something new, something sacred and holy.
I know that God is sitting here with me, patiently waiting. I’m just not ready yet. I am so thankful for his gentle tenderness that will never force me.
