Dear God
Dear God,
I can't sleep. I'm laying in bed with my eyes wide open. My mind wandering from one sad thought to the next. I'm sad, and confused, and frustrated, and lonely, and heartbroken.
I pulled the box out today. The box in my mind where I gently place all the things I don't understand; the great mysteries, the sad moments I just can't explain, the "why do bad things happen to good people" questions, the earthquake, the rapes, the wars, the mommas who cannot take care of their children, Matthew 6:30 and how it applies to Haiti, and finally my thoughts and questions about the people I love who died of cancer after we prayed and prayed for healing.
It's a box I like to keep closed, shoved in the dark corner while I pretend it doesn't exist. I hate pulling that box out, I hate shoving more emotion into it, but I'm glad I've been able to build this box. All those thoughts used to dominate my entire being. Every other thought was tainted or touched by my confusion and sadness about the thoughts in the box. I'm thankful for the box, but whenever I have to open it to put something new in everything comes spilling out again. I have to carefully pick it all up again and put it all back in the box.
God, I just don't understand. I don't understand your ways, I don't understand your plans. I don't understand how you decide which prayers to answer with, "yes" and which to answer with, "no."
It frustrates me when you don't do what I feel you should do, when I feel you should do it. It hurts me when people I love die "too early, too soon, too quickly, too painfully, too whatever."
It really stinking hurts to lose another friend and mentor.
I'm thankful I don't have to understand your ways. There's a reason I don't get to choose what prayers receive yes' and which don't, and who gets healed and who doesn't. I know that.
I know all the right Christianese things to say in these moments. I know that you have a plan, and that your ways are higher. I know you make beautiful things out of difficult circumstances. I know all of this, I believe it all, and I trust you. I do.
But right now I'm just really sad, a little bit angry, my heart hurts and I want to go home to be with my people.
Rachel
I can't sleep. I'm laying in bed with my eyes wide open. My mind wandering from one sad thought to the next. I'm sad, and confused, and frustrated, and lonely, and heartbroken.
I pulled the box out today. The box in my mind where I gently place all the things I don't understand; the great mysteries, the sad moments I just can't explain, the "why do bad things happen to good people" questions, the earthquake, the rapes, the wars, the mommas who cannot take care of their children, Matthew 6:30 and how it applies to Haiti, and finally my thoughts and questions about the people I love who died of cancer after we prayed and prayed for healing.
It's a box I like to keep closed, shoved in the dark corner while I pretend it doesn't exist. I hate pulling that box out, I hate shoving more emotion into it, but I'm glad I've been able to build this box. All those thoughts used to dominate my entire being. Every other thought was tainted or touched by my confusion and sadness about the thoughts in the box. I'm thankful for the box, but whenever I have to open it to put something new in everything comes spilling out again. I have to carefully pick it all up again and put it all back in the box.
God, I just don't understand. I don't understand your ways, I don't understand your plans. I don't understand how you decide which prayers to answer with, "yes" and which to answer with, "no."
It frustrates me when you don't do what I feel you should do, when I feel you should do it. It hurts me when people I love die "too early, too soon, too quickly, too painfully, too whatever."
It really stinking hurts to lose another friend and mentor.
I'm thankful I don't have to understand your ways. There's a reason I don't get to choose what prayers receive yes' and which don't, and who gets healed and who doesn't. I know that.
I know all the right Christianese things to say in these moments. I know that you have a plan, and that your ways are higher. I know you make beautiful things out of difficult circumstances. I know all of this, I believe it all, and I trust you. I do.
But right now I'm just really sad, a little bit angry, my heart hurts and I want to go home to be with my people.
Rachel
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