I'll be the first to tell you what a cotton-headed-ninny-muggins I am. If you're not familiar with the movie lingo, then let me just describe a cotton-headed-ninny-muggins as a very challenged individual.
And while I can't say much as to why I'm such a dimwit sometimes, here's one of the many steps that brought me out of it.
I quite simply quit fighting God.
That's not to say that I quit hurting, quit being disappointed, quit wishing that things had not turned out as they had, but I quit telling God what His job was to have been in the situation and handing Him His almighty performance evaluation stating that He needed to improve on certain company fundamentals.
You see CPS walked in my door, they handed me a child that absolutely rocked my world and that I fell in love with, loved her more than life itself. And a month later, with no explanation they put the child right back with the relatives they'd originally placed her with. I had no clue as to her safety, no idea who might be hurting this precious thing, and with all the other things that I'd been trying to get through....this was the hardest. It was the one that broke the proverbial camels back.
Because, you see, He'd taken it too far. It hurt too much. I was sick to my stomach with grief and fear and it was quite clearly all His fault.
But it hurt so much that the hurt overwhelmed the anger and it was hard to be angry when it just hurt so badly. So I came to San Antonio hurting and doubtful that anyone that doubted God as much as I did could possibly be hearing right about moving 300 miles from home.
Coming here, life was even more difficult, more confusing, and left me feeling foolish that I'd make such a crazy mistake as to come here, leaving my mortgaged house in the hands of a crazy renter and my job with State benefits in the dust behind me.
I could be angry, but that took more energy than I had.
So I did the only thing left to do - beyond trying to walk away again and accuse God of being a fraud - I gave up.
I told Him I couldn't do this on my own, and I needed His help to make it. I told Him life hurt too too badly, that I worried for my Belle more than words could speak.
And do you know what happened eventually?
I still can't make it on my own.
I still worry for Belle more than I can ever convey.
But I trust Him with it. I trust Him to hear my cry to protect Bell, to help her grow old and happy, and healthy, to know love and safety.
I trust Him to see me through each months set of bills.
I trust Him to show me how I can work harder to earn more money, or to show me opportunities to help me earn more money to get by each month.
I trust Him to see me through whatever next big emergency hits this household.
There are too many examples in scripture of lives that don't seem to work out. Sure, we see the end result so we know how beneficial the events were, but Stephen was still stoned, Paul and Silas were still beaten, shipwrecked, poor people still begged and were healed. In anger, I could demand so many things of God - but I don't have that right.
The end result is of the greatest value. We cling to so many promises of prosperity, of joy, of peace. But there are a great many that also promise an enduring of tribulation, of suffering, of chastening. I've seen it and tasted just a small taste of the hurt and suffering.
But my most difficult year was the one in which I attempted to dictate to God what He needed to be to me.
And the beginning of the greatest year that I'm experiencing right now began with realizing that He's what I need, and so much more.