Used to, I feel like I would’ve probably had a heart palpitation and shot out an instantaneous cliche if someone dared to question God.
“Just trust Him.”
“Just keep praying.”
“Everything’s all gonna work out. He knows what He’s doing.”
“Just read the Word.”
But now, I feel like being a little kid and absolutely throwing a tantrum with Him…falling on the floor, kicking, and screaming. The whole nine yards.
Everything I do lately is just a contradiction, and I’m super frustrated. Allow me to explain.
I feel like there’s an anchor tied around my foot in the middle of a roaring sea. My head is just above the surface, but barely. As the never-ending storm rages, the waves refuse to cease. They’re constant. The force of each wall of water drags me below the surface, and just when I think “this is it…it’s over”, my head rockets out of the water just in time for me to catch a shallow breath before being violently drug under again. While I’m under the water for what seems like an eternity, I’m in total despair and desperation. But for the split second that I surface, I catch a breath of hope. I see the lifeguard.
That breath of hope is supposed to be awesome. Who doesn’t enjoy some hope, right? Well, what drives me nuts is that it’s only for a moment. A second. Then there’s another wave of hopelessness, depression, and despair. Please do not hunt me down or shoot me for questioning God, but I feel like the God of the universe can handle my tantrum. I’m not God and I don’t think like Him, true, but it truly frustrates the living daylights out of me that it seems like He’s just sitting there in the lifeguard hut watching me bob up and down in this chaos.
Why can’t you just cut me loose?
Why won’t you help me?
Why are you just watching me drown?
How can you just sit there?
I thought you had plans for me, not to harm me?
You see, I’ve been dealing with this rusty anchor on my foot for probably at least 3 years. I’ve tried and tried to cut it loose, but I can’t. No knife I’ve tried has worked. The grip is just too strong. I want to scream out in total despair, but no one seems to hear my cries underneath the water.
As I come up from the water for a split second, there are other people happily swimming everywhere. A day at the beach it seems… Bitterness rises up within me. I feel like I’m splashing like nobody’s business, but when someone sees me, I either say “I’m okay” or either I get back a well intentioned answer.
“You’ll be okay. Just trust Him.”
As true as that is and as nice as that sounds, it’s not comforting. I feel like I’m drowning here. Water is filling my lungs more and more as the waves continue to roll in. How am I just supposed to sit here and be okay with this?
As I stare at the hut and the lifeguard that I was once so close to, I forget who He is with each passing wave even to the point of bitterness upon hearing His name. I felt so safe and protected by Him on the shore, but now…can He even see me? Does He hear my desperate cries? Does He even care?
Yes.
Once again, that’s supposed to be comforting, but it’s agonizing.
“If you can hear me and you care about me and you can see me drowning, why won’t you just save me? I got myself into the water, and now, I’m over my head and I can’t get out! I’ve cried out to you plenty of times! Why won’t you just cut me loose, hold me in your arms, and tell me that everything’s okay now…that I’m safe in Your arms?”
As I bob up and down, I struggle to even believe that He’s good. How could He be? I’ve taken a hit to my faith. But even now, despite my feelings and my absolute frustration at Him, I know that He is good. For a split second, I can see the love in His eyes right before I crash back under.
I’m too tired to even lean on His promises.
I’m weary from fighting only to get nowhere.
I’m drowning.
Before I go down under the water again, I utter out a single cry.
Please. Save me. Hold me. Love me.
