Today has been one of those days, but you wouldn't know it. If you peeked into my house, you'd see me relaxing with the kids and disassembling my daughter's old crib for the move.
But I feel it. The sadness permeates my soul and I feel like I'm sinking.
Have you ever heard a song at just the right moment and felt as though the song was written just for you? Maybe not even an entire song, but a piece of the lyrics? This happened to me last night. It's just a small clip of the song, but it cut me to the core and I saw myself in the words... "I'm not a stranger. No, I am Yours. With crippled anger and tears that still drip sore."
Crippled anger. No strength for even fiery, burning anger, but broken anger. Hurting tears. If You really loved me, God, why would you have let these things happen to me?
Then, I feel guilty. There are people who have it worse than me. What right do I have to complain? To ache, even? My agony is nothing compared to what some have endured. I've suffered the distresses of a broken marriage and multiple miscarriages. I carry the burden of infertility. But there are people who are burying their children... fighting cancer. Surely, my problems must seem minor in comparison.
And yet, I cry out to God anyway. I shake my fist. Why?
Is it okay to be angry at God?
I'm reminded of Job and his many losses. His friends were telling him to just curse God and die. His situation was hopeless. He never cursed God, but he did get angry. He wanted an answer for his suffering... a reason. People love to tell us, "Everything happens for a reason," but they can rarely suggest what that reason might be. One of my biggest pet peeves is when people misuse Romans 8:28. I've had people tell me that what happened to me was good, because everything God does is good. While I agree that everything God does is good, I strongly disagree with that sentiment. God has allowed free will and there is evil in this world. Sometimes, truly terrible things happen to us. But Romans 8:28 tells us that when we love God and are called according to HIS purpose, He works everything together for good. He brings good out of it.
I don't know what good God is going to bring out of my past, but I trust God enough to let Him do it. Job trusted God too, but he had reached his limit. I can picture him just groaning in misery and shouting to heaven:
If my misery could be weighed,
if you could pile the whole bitter load on the scales,
It would be heavier than all the sand of the sea!
Is it any wonder that I’m screaming like a caged cat?
The arrows of God Almighty are in me,
poison arrows—and I’m poisoned all through!
God has dumped the whole works on me.
He didn't understand and he blamed God. In fact, he went on and on and on about it. It was as though he'd held it in for as long as he could stand and he just exploded. He found himself wishing he could take God to court. If he could JUST plead his case, things would be better. I certainly find myself blaming God. He could have intervened. Everything COULD be different. I cry out to Him and ask why. I plead for answers and I hear nothing. Nothing but silence.
Job heard silence for a while before God answered him. We read all the way to chapter 28 before we see, "And now, finally, God answered Job from the eye of a violent storm." A storm. He didn't come to Job in peace, but in a storm. Isn't that typical? God didn't bring immediate peace to Job, but came to him IN a storm... in the midst of a fierce storm. And right away, God starts questioning Job. "Why do you talk without knowing what you're talking about?" He goes into a long list of Job's LACK of qualifications. Of course Job doesn't understand. Job isn't God.
It's interesting to me that Job never does get an answer to his questions. But he learns a very important lesson. He learns to trust God and His goodness. I am beginning to do the same. To trust that God knows what He's doing, even though I have no clue.
He IS God, after all.
Who am I?
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