All my recent posts have been pretty pitiful. It's been kind of pitiful year. I was holding onto hope of having a child by natural means and now that they removed Roger (my super-gigantic extraneous tumory organ situation), and my fallopes are squished. Way to go, body, way to go.
I went through the stages of grief and got all disappointed in God and felt a little dead inside.
So there I was all sorry for myself and crying out to God who was strangely quiet on the subject and I got to the point where I had nothing more to say.
"I don't know why, God, I just don't know."
"That's right," he spoke, "you don't"
"..." I said.
"But I do"
Mind=blown
He proceeded to tell me lots of things I don't know. And he was right. I didn't know them. And I didn't know why the fallopians failed. I didn't know why I had to be in that stupid car accident to begin with.
And I still don't.
Hallelujah, I am FREE!
For my ENTIRE life, I have felt the need to explain God to the many people who wanted to know if there was some purpose for my challenges. I gave them a pretty answer, too. I just knew things happened for a reason and I learned so much from my circumstance and my disability. I just knew God had made me stronger and more determined through my struggle. I knew so much. I thought.
Nope.
Truth: God knows what he's doing.
I have no freaking clue.
I'm excited to answer the next person who asks me, because I finally know how to respond:
I DON'T KNOW!
But I know who does :)
Monday, May 18, 2015
The King and I
I just finished a season of disappointment. I got angry with God, disappointed in my circumstances. I felt inadequate, unfairly targeted, and perhaps a little unloved.
Sad story, right?
I got into this season with the best of intentions. For the year 2015, it was my goal to stand on the promises of God and claim these promises every time I prayed. At first, this was a good practice. I became disciplined in the art of faith: knowing and claiming that God would deliver what I was requesting in earnest.
Then the metamorphosis.
My daily time with God became consumed with my requests. After all, I was becoming skilled in the art of faith, so it was all in the name of practice.
Then my body failed me again. Twice. Grumble.
I decided God had failed me and went all two-year-old on him because I hadn't got my way.
It was a cute temper tantrum.
Then God used the whole debacle to teach me one of the most valuable lessons of my life: trusting Him when I won't get what I want.
Part of this lesson came by a lesser known man mentioned in 2 Samuel: Mephibosheth (not as easy to pronounce as David)
Mephibosheth happened to be, as the Bible puts it, "lame in both feet". David wished to honor Jonathan by blessing his relatives, so he sought such relatives out, and found Mephibosheth, Jonathan's grandson. David was a king at this point, so he had everything at his disposal. He took Mephibosheth, likely considered the lowest of the low, and invited him to dine at the king's table, along with the most respected of society.
Following a conflict later in 2 Samuel, David was sifting through his people to find those who remained loyal to him. Mephibosheth came to him, unkempt, and assured the king of his allegiance to him. Mephibosheth came with humility beyond understanding, probably due to his own circumstances, but who could call himself better?
"All my grandfather's descendants deserved nothing but death from the lord my king, but you gave your servant a place among those who eat at your table. So what right do I have to make any more appeals to the king?" - 2 Samuel 19:28
How often have I come to God with my requests assuming that because he said he would give me the desires of my heart, somehow he owes them to me? How much more of a difference is there between the king I serve and the one Mephy bowed to?
What right do I have to make any more appeals to the King?
Sometimes I forget I serve royalty and all I am is a lame servant, yet my King takes time to hear me and speak to me and care about my life and allows me to dine at his table.
And I deserved nothing but death.
Sad story, right?
I got into this season with the best of intentions. For the year 2015, it was my goal to stand on the promises of God and claim these promises every time I prayed. At first, this was a good practice. I became disciplined in the art of faith: knowing and claiming that God would deliver what I was requesting in earnest.
Then the metamorphosis.
My daily time with God became consumed with my requests. After all, I was becoming skilled in the art of faith, so it was all in the name of practice.
Then my body failed me again. Twice. Grumble.
I decided God had failed me and went all two-year-old on him because I hadn't got my way.
It was a cute temper tantrum.
Then God used the whole debacle to teach me one of the most valuable lessons of my life: trusting Him when I won't get what I want.
Part of this lesson came by a lesser known man mentioned in 2 Samuel: Mephibosheth (not as easy to pronounce as David)
Mephibosheth happened to be, as the Bible puts it, "lame in both feet". David wished to honor Jonathan by blessing his relatives, so he sought such relatives out, and found Mephibosheth, Jonathan's grandson. David was a king at this point, so he had everything at his disposal. He took Mephibosheth, likely considered the lowest of the low, and invited him to dine at the king's table, along with the most respected of society.
Following a conflict later in 2 Samuel, David was sifting through his people to find those who remained loyal to him. Mephibosheth came to him, unkempt, and assured the king of his allegiance to him. Mephibosheth came with humility beyond understanding, probably due to his own circumstances, but who could call himself better?
"All my grandfather's descendants deserved nothing but death from the lord my king, but you gave your servant a place among those who eat at your table. So what right do I have to make any more appeals to the king?" - 2 Samuel 19:28
How often have I come to God with my requests assuming that because he said he would give me the desires of my heart, somehow he owes them to me? How much more of a difference is there between the king I serve and the one Mephy bowed to?
What right do I have to make any more appeals to the King?
Sometimes I forget I serve royalty and all I am is a lame servant, yet my King takes time to hear me and speak to me and care about my life and allows me to dine at his table.
And I deserved nothing but death.
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