๐–๐ข๐ญ๐ก๐จ๐ฎ๐ญ ๐†๐จ๐

Something weird happened to me today. I woke up angry at God. Really angry. Like I didnโ€™t want to read His Word, I had nothing to say to Him, and I didnโ€™t want to visit His house. I was bitter inside.ย  ย 
Iโ€™ve never felt numbness like this inside, and I remember vaguely considering if I hadnโ€™t been close to some spiritual breakthrough yesterday for the devil to be making such a power play today. I remember brushing off that thought because acknowledging it would mean having a conversation with God. I didnโ€™t want that.ย 
I remember being confused at my state of mind. I didnโ€™t recognize myself. I seriously considered whether or not to skip the next church service and I really didnโ€™t know why I didnโ€™t want to go. Had I lost my faith, I wondered? Had I decided God didnโ€™t exist? No โ€“ thatโ€™s when I realized I was angry. I told Him so. I told Him I may not have a right but that didnโ€™t change how I feel. I told Him thatโ€™s what happens when you have a relationship with me. I told God exactly how messed up I am, and (rather haughtily) I explained how that mess translates to every now and then putting up with my getting frustrated with you, whether I have any good reason to or not. I told Him about all my earthly relationships and started listing the times I gave a loved one the cold shoulder because I was doing my internal twisting that had nothing to do with them. God listened. I even think I could feel His gaze steady on my eyes as I was talking. Then He said one thing, โ€œIf weโ€™re in a relationship, donโ€™t you think I deserve a chance to talk to you?โ€ย 
Hmph. He got me there. I decided I would go to church. I would sit there and see if He could thaw this rock inside of me, as if it were mere ice. But He could wait and talk to me there.ย 
A little bit later, I thought again of how unlike myself I was being. I challenged God, โ€œI donโ€™t feel like fighting this. If Iโ€™m going to come out of it, I guess Youโ€™re gonna have to fix it.โ€ Again, I said this with an attitude not unlike a child who thinks she knows a little something about life. Iโ€™m guessing God listened with the same patient humor as an adult listens to that child.ย 
Then I waited. All day I waited to hear something. I waited on some explanation for the way I feel. I waited on a revelation of how Heโ€™d jerk me back into rhythm. I waited, and I was lonely.ย 
I was alone โ€“ I shut everybody out today. I couldnโ€™t get my thoughts on conversation while my brain was swirling over this pain inside. I didnโ€™t even realize there was pain inside, though. I shut that out, too. I did make a decision to continue living as a Christian as long as this โ€œconditionโ€ lasted and somewhere in my memory I recalled someone saying that faith is an action, not a feeling, and I understood that for the first time today. I got a Christian song stuck in my head and I wondered how I would be able to sing it with feeling. I thought of all the times Iโ€™ve felt hardship because Iโ€™m trying to live how God wants me to, and I tried to tell myself Jesus faced much harder-ship. I tried to remind myself of all the blessings I have thanks to God but I just feltโ€ฆ nothing. No, actually I felt boredom at hearing the same coaching lines over and over. They were losing their effect.ย 
At some point today, I thought of these blogs and my blood ran cold. How on earth was I going to blog with this going on? What could I say?ย 
Should I talk about this? To what end? Should I speculate as to the cause? What is the cause? What would be the response? Would I get that knowing look from my friends next time I saw them? That look that is so annoyingly full of pity, concern, and solutions? Would someone think theyโ€™re enough โ€œinโ€ with me to be the one to approach the subject? Would I frighten my family with talk like this?ย 
Somewhere in the tumult of thoughts, I remembered a phrase that has been bouncing around in my head lately: โ€œVulnerable honesty is beautiful.โ€ As much as I open up in these blogs, I do have my limit and this blog is crossing it. Iโ€™m intentionally crossing my limit because I believe God wants me to. I guess He knows how to use it to grow His kingdom.ย  ย 
You probably want to know the cause of the funk today. I donโ€™t know. Iโ€™m spread thin every day of my life, I expect too much of myself always, and I spend most of my life feeling guilty that Iโ€™m not doing better. (Please do not comment on this blog with cheerleading) Maybe today I was tired of directing that anger at myself. OR Part of that guilt is that I put a lot of time into responding to my own thoughts that God is stronger than my weakness so itโ€™s okay if I mess up and/or reminding myself that Iโ€™m His creation so be nice to me. Maybe I was fatigued from the constant coaching. OR Iโ€™m a woman and a lot bit nutty so maybe I just woke up in a mood. OR Maybe it was God who was the angry one. I have read that He turns His back on us in anger sometimes, so maybe that numbness and bitterness I felt was His absence. OR Maybe it was just my reaction to the everyday stresses of life. Maybe I cracked today.ย  ย 
Who knows.ย  ย 
Hereโ€™s what I do know. I suddenly had a longing to read my Bible a few minutes ago. I missed my God, and I wanted to hear His voice. At that moment, I realized that I really do have a relationship with Him, and one day of refusing to speak to Him was way too much for me. I have tears in my eyes now just writing about the reunion.ย  ย 
Want to know what scripture I read? It wasnโ€™t what I meant to read when I opened my Bible but I definitely was meant to read it.ย 
Pieces from Isaiah 54, NIVย 
โ€œ๐˜š๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ, ๐˜– ๐˜ฃ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ, ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ข ๐˜ค๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ฅ; ๐˜ฃ๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜ด๐˜ต ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ด๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ, ๐˜ด๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ต ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ ๐˜ซ๐˜ฐ๐˜บ, ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ ๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ฃ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ; โ€ฆ ๐˜‹๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ข๐˜ง๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ฅ; ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ด๐˜ถ๐˜ง๐˜ง๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ด๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ. ๐˜‹๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ง๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ณ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜ด๐˜จ๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฆ; ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ถ๐˜ฎ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅโ€ฆ ๐˜๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ณ ๐˜”๐˜ข๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ณ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ฃ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ โ€“ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜“๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ˆ๐˜ญ๐˜ฎ๐˜ช๐˜จ๐˜ฉ๐˜ต๐˜บ ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ฏ๐˜ข๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ โ€“ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜๐˜ฐ๐˜ญ๐˜บ ๐˜–๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜๐˜ด๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ณ ๐˜™๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ; ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜Ž๐˜ฐ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ. ๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜“๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฌ ๐˜ข๐˜ด ๐˜ช๐˜ง ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ข ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ง๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ ๐˜ด๐˜ฑ๐˜ช๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ต โ€“ ๐˜ข ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ง๐˜ฆ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ, ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ญ๐˜บ ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ซ๐˜ฆ๐˜ค๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ,โ€ ๐˜ด๐˜ข๐˜บ๐˜ด ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ณ ๐˜Ž๐˜ฐ๐˜ฅ. โ€œ๐˜๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ ๐˜ข ๐˜ฃ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ฆ๐˜ง ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต ๐˜ ๐˜ข๐˜ฃ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ, ๐˜ฃ๐˜ถ๐˜ต ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฉ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฑ ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฑ๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ด๐˜ช๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฌ. ๐˜๐˜ฏ ๐˜ข ๐˜ด๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜จ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜จ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜ง๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฆ ๐˜ง๐˜ณ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ ๐˜ข ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต, ๐˜ฃ๐˜ถ๐˜ต ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฉ ๐˜ฆ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฌ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ด ๐˜ ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ท๐˜ฆ ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฑ๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ด๐˜ช๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ,โ€ ๐˜ด๐˜ข๐˜บ๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜“๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฅ ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ณ ๐˜™๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ. โ€œ๐˜›๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ข๐˜บ๐˜ด ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜•๐˜ฐ๐˜ข๐˜ฉ, ๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ ๐˜ด๐˜ธ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ธ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ด ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜•๐˜ฐ๐˜ข๐˜ฉ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ข๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ฏ ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ. ๐˜š๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ ๐˜ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ท๐˜ฆ ๐˜ด๐˜ธ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜จ๐˜ณ๐˜บ ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฉ ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ, ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฃ๐˜ถ๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ ๐˜ข๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ฏ. ๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜จ๐˜ฉ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ด ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ด๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ญ๐˜ด ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ, ๐˜บ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ง๐˜ข๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ด๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ต ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ,โ€ ๐˜ด๐˜ข๐˜บ๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜“๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฅ, ๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ด ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฑ๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ด๐˜ช๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ.ย 
Itโ€™s important I think that I make something clear to you. Although youโ€™re reading this with the happy ending, I was ugly today. I was ugly to our Father. I know He can handle it, I know He accepts my apology, and I know He forgives me. Itโ€™s important that you know I was ugly, though, because sometimes youโ€™re ugly, too. Iโ€™m not trying to call you out. Iโ€™m telling you that my happy ending is all glory to God and so is yours. Weโ€™re not ugly anymore because God does the work to clean us and all He sees is His beautiful children. Thereโ€™s nothing we can do that will ever change that. Heโ€™ll do all the work โ€“ we just have to let Him.ย 
(๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜จ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ญ๐˜บ ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฐ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ค๐˜ช๐˜ณ๐˜ค๐˜ข 2014)
Back to blog

Leave a comment

Please note, comments need to be approved before they are published.