i heard someone say recently that it wasn’t “God’s will” for a bad thing to happen.
the statement made me want to jump out of my skin.
it was a tragic thing that had happened. a lot of things that happen on this earth are. i suppose we like to think God had nothing to do with it. He’s a nice God, after all. He’s only in control of all the so-called “good” things that happen. the rest is the devil’s fault. that nasty devil. blame him for death and rape and disease and violence and all those terrible things we hear about on the news. all the “bad,” as we would define it.
but if that were true, i’d want nothing to do with a God like that.
i’ve been abused: physically, sexually, emotionally, spiritually. i’ve been betrayed and abandoned. i’ve struggled through recovery. i’ve been depressed and near suicidal. all bad things. bad things that were a part of God’s will.
as if God didn’t know what was going to happen in Eden all those years ago. yet, somehow, this world still happened.
and all that followed. cain killed abel. job lost his children. a flood wiped most of humanity. pharaoh threw babies in a river. ruth’s husband died. david had sex with bathsheba. israel faced generations of slavery and hardship. mary got pregnant outside of marriage. Jesus was tormented and nailed to a cross. stephan was stoned. paul spent many unjust years in prison. christians for generations after have been viciously persecuted and murdered.
these are all what we would define as “bad” things, but when you step back, you see the bigger picture. God’s design. a God who can make beauty come from the ashes…despite sin and its consequences. we can’t explain most of what happens here, but we somehow feel like we have to defend God, a God we hardly understand.
my heart hurts for all the pain and tragedy and injustice that happens here. i cry for people that are suffering, real and even imagined. i don’t deny that there is evil in this world – my life is evidence of that. i don’t know much, but i know God is God. He is sovereign. i can rest on that, in good and bad.
what is “bad“?
i feel like i’ve become estranged to things that i once thought that i loved, things that i was certain of, things i felt so strongly about, so passionate about, so certain about.
i feel like i’ve lost something.
i’ve had to learn how to be content. i’ve had to learn how to roll with the punches. i’ve had to understand that “the show must go on.” i’ve had to pick myself up when i wanted to stay down. i’ve had to accept that some things/people will never change. that things won’t work out to the way i want them. and on and on and on.
i’ve been asked several times lately what my dreams are, my hopes, my plans…like where do i want to be, what do i want to do, who do i want to be with. i can’t answer those questions anymore. when once i thought i knew, now all i can do is shrug my shoulders.
music, writing, relationships: these were the things i thought i had all planned out. dreams i had allowed myself to dream. but somehow i’ve let them go, or have had to watch them go…for the sake of contentment, it seems. i’ve had to be thankful for what i have…because when i went for the things that exceeded my reach, i got nothing but air. now i feel like it’s a sin for me to get disappointed. and i feel totally selfish about it all…how dare i want more when i have so much to be thankful for already.
i turned 27 yesterday. i’ve realized that i have all i need, but i’ve forgotten how to want. now i’m just afraid to.
am i truly content, or have i just given up?
i could find it a bit of a cruel irony that i was born on a father’s day. i could look at the relationships i had with each my “fathers” growing up and rub at the scars they left behind. i remember the last time i accidentally used the word “dad”…i got in trouble for it. i had slipped up in front of my stepfather’s kids and was made to feel like i had “done it on purpose” to hurt their feelings…or something like that.
that was the last time i used it. i had no desire to call that man “dad,” anyway. for whatever reason, “dad” has a more personal connotation, while “father” gives me a bit of a disconnect.
no, i don’t get it, either. especially as i look at the other side… my Father in heaven. despite the absence and abuse of all my earthly fathers, i have come more to appreciate and cling to my “Abba” in heaven, and i call Him that a lot. yeah, it means “dad/daddy” in greek, but i get away with it because it’s not english.
i can celebrate Him for all that He is and has been and will be as my Father. He’s the only “father figure” i’ve ever had and will truly ever need. i’ve never looked for it in anyone else, and really never expect to find it. i will walk the aisle alone if i have the chance…not to be pitiful, but so that all may recognize Who is truly “giving me away”…
i’m not one to re-post pinterest-y things like this (though many of my FB friends are *eyeroll*), but this one represents truth to me. explore: