Where were You?
Most recently it has not even been so much for me, but still I ask God, 'Why'...
It's been a year now since tragedy hit me like a semi-truck.
It has been a year full of change.
A year of asking.
A year of doubt.
Thankfulness. Anger. Sadness. Disbelief.
And it has been a year of watching God swoop in at the very last moment, when I was in full mental outrage, and show Himself faithful.
And yet it was a year of questioning...why?
Several months ago I decided to begin to read for the purpose of fun. Escaping I suppose. A way to stop my mind from constant thought.
Even after the decision had been made...it took me a few weeks to know where to start. Which author? Fiction or non? Did I want to dive into a self help type of book or just thoughtlessly encounter someone else's storyline.
I dove into my new book, head first. I read every spare moment I had. I waited up late and got waaaaaay too little sleep. I took loooong evening baths (almost daily) and stayed extra long in the tub. I had to see how the story all worked out in the end. I was addicted.
One night in particular I was intent on finishing the book that I had been sneaking in at every opportunity. I was so close. I sat with my cup of coconut cream coffee and...escape.....
Just a few moments in there were those words that I have wanted to
Where were You when this was happening God?!
I closed my eyes and looked away. The second I read those words my breath was gone. When I opened my eyes again, I could no longer see through my tears. I knew that what came in the next paragraph was the reason God had chosen this book for me. I was angry at first when I realized the base of the story was very close to what I was dealing with personally. Of ALLLLL the fiction books in ALLLLLL of the libraries...I had to choose THIS one. Ugh. But I read on because I knew God had something to tell me...and I was unsure I could handle His response...
I. was. there.
How could I have doubted that He was there? How dare I think he would ever turn away? How did that simple reality make me feel both comfort and disgust? Why were there hot angry tears running down my cheeks?
They fell because I had trusted Him. But what about now...do I still...? How do you remain faith-filled when you feel as though the wind has been knocked out of you and you lay there struggling to simply breathe? What kind of God........I couldn't even finish that thought.
Sometimes we have to get gut honest with God. We have to lay it all out before Him. I have both a reverent fear of God and an open line of communication with Him. I tell Him more brutally honest things than I do any one person on this earth. He knows me completely. Every thought. Every glare. Every tear. He knows my heart intimately. He formed my inmost being...and He can handle my wrath.
That night as I read through the blur of my tears; I could not help but to silently weep. Alone. There wasn't a person in this world who could fix my struggle. It was up to me. I had to choose to fight my way through what the enemy was using to try to destroy the faith and purpose of myself and my family. I had to admit to myself and to God that I was angry with Him. I had to voice that I felt as though He had closed His eyes to what HE SHOULD HAVE STOPPED.
As if I have the right to tell God how my story will go.
As if I think I know what is to come.
As if I was there at the beginning of it all.
As if I can say what it will take to make me into the woman that He knows I am capable of becoming.
I lay down my weapons.
My harsh words.
My trust issues.
I lay them at His feet. I do not deserve any of the wonderful things He does for me because of anything I have done.
I remember the first Sunday that I was to lead the Lauren Daigle song, Trust In You, during worship. I could barely make it through. There was a spiritual battle going on in my head, and I was the only person invited to the fight. It wasn't about learning the song...that had been fairly easy. Practicing the song with the worship team was a little bit more of a challenge. But then came worship...
There is a huge difference between practicing/singing and worshipping. During worship that day...it got real. It was that day that I knew I had no right to sing those very words if I didn't truly believe them.
A single tear ran down my cheek. I knew that I wanted to believe them. I knew that I wanted to trust God with the life and safety of my family. I also knew that He could see through my voice. He could see through my worship. He could see straight to the place in my heart where the struggle was raging.
And it was that day...I knew we had won. I did trust God and I belted those words out because I believe(d) that God is for me and for my family. Romans 8:28 will forever be true. God will use this tragedy. I don't know how. I don't know when. But I will wait for glimpses of good....because it is there that God will be.