Saturday, January 29, 2011
Hold My Heart
It's time for a major confession.
It's been a really rough week for me. It's been a rough month, but this past week starting last Sunday and promenading right through today has been particularly forceful in its roughness. It went right past rowdy taunting into blatant sarcasm, and today it just sort of sent an unforeseen sucker-punch to my intestines.
That wasn't the major confession.
In the midst of my anguish, I sobbed the phrase: I $^@#&*# hate God.
Now THAT is a major confession.
I'm not proud of it. I don't have any good excuse for it besides the withering of my heart, the emotional knife that filleted through my soul long ago and has just been sort of rooting around in there with it's serrated edge, pulling at little strings now and then to see if it can get a rise out of me. I've been angry with God before, yes, who hasn't? I've been disappointed when my plans go awry, I've been jaded by years of what I felt was being ignored by Him, and I've been stubbornly upset when I've waited and waited and waited and waited and waited, and then tried and tried and tried and tried and tried to make something happen and it hasn't happened. I've ignored God before. I've spoken sternly to Him. I've yelled at Him from time to time.
I remember one point when Zachary was very young, and we were leaving church, and there was something he was arguing about with us in the van... something he wanted that we wouldn't give him, or whatever it was. He was sobbing and angry and he muttered, "I hate you guys." Something a parent never wants to hear. Because we're only keeping their best interest in mind by not letting them have what they want right then, right?
So how is it that I, as a human being, can know that fully, but when my Father hasn't given me something I've tried to get myself, that I've begged Him for, that I've asked Him for repeatedly for years... how is it that I, a parent myself, can't understand the need for patience? How is it that I, who am logically writing this at the moment, can be the same person who uttered that statement earlier today?
Because we all fail.
I failed miserably. As an adult woman, but also as a child -- HIS child. I've asked His forgiveness a hundred times today since that point, and I'm sure I have it. I know it didn't change anything. It was just a temper tantrum, really. The six-year-old little girl inside of me not getting what she wanted, tortured by an envious, covetous heart. (I know my failures. I can list them to you alphabetically or chronologically if you'd like.)
This link will take you to a song that perfectly describes the way I feel today. I am so utterly weary. But I know there is a God, and I know He is good. He is nothing but good. He's good like a parent who throws you out of the way of a moving bus. It might hurt really badly right now, but you should be glad you didn't get hit by the bus that was coming.
Here's hoping next week gets a little better. God knows it can't get much worse.