What do you do when you’re angry with the Creator of the universe and the Lover of your soul? When you’re incredibly disappointed in your Redeemer and feel as though He can’t be trusted with the things, the people you treasure most? What does a believer do with that depth of confusion and spiritual chaos?
These have been the things my soul has been wrestling with. I trusted Him. I begged Him. I hoped in Him. Many prayed, hands were laid, oil was applied, and the Biblical model for healing was followed.
He did not heal me.
And He let me down. Three times now. He let three of my babies, two of them in a row, die in my womb. He could’ve done something, right? He could’ve reached down and touched my body. He could’ve spoken a word of healing. If only I could’ve reached out and touched the hem of His cloak…
But He didn’t. I couldn’t. Physical healing wasn’t in His plan for me on those days. At times, this makes me so angry. This God who’s permitted me to walk through this pain is a complete paradox. He loves life but allows so much death. He’s a God of healing, but there is incredible brokenness all around. He has the power to fix it all. Now. Instead, He waits.
He is refining me.
Instead, He fixes me. Through this brokenness and anger and chaos, He’s fixing me. He’s molding me and pressing me into something more beautiful than I could imagine. This God whom I am incredibly unfaithful to in my doubt and anger and blame-casting remains faithful and gently puts these pieces of me back together, one shard at a time.
So each day, I lay it down at His feet: “God, I’m angry today. I feel like I can’t trust you, and I despise feeling that way. I want to believe you’re working this for good and that you have good plans for me, but today it’s hard. Today my rebellious spirit is pulling to the wide road because this narrow road is treacherous. This trusting is taking all I’ve got, and I’m all out of it. Can you step in, God? Will you fill my gaping, faithless holes with You?” I have to surrender those emotions or they will destroy me from the inside out.
I won’t let that happen. I will fight because He is worth it. This utterly confusing God of miracles and wonder and light is working that glory in me, even when that’s not what it looks like to the human eye. But my eyes are faulty, they are dimmed by the cataracts of my fallen nature.
“For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known.” “For we live by faith, not by sight.” (1 Corinthians 13:12, 2 Corinthians 5:7)
With Him, I can face today.
Today, this is where I’ll rest. Today I’ll drink deeply of the blessings He’s freely given to me and remember His faithfulness. The sweet face of my son and daughter. The strong countenance and adoration of my husband. The wonder and working out of my salvation. And with that, peace will flood this stormy heart, at least for a moment at a time.
“And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.” ~2 Corinthians 3:18