I want to start off by making one thing clear.
What I'm about to talk about, the way I'm going to describe things, I'm not saying that they are how it should be. I'm saying I don't know.
That said...
It's hard to describe my relationship with God. Over the last two years it's gotten so progressively wonderful that it is beyond my being able to truly describe it. I've almost constantly felt His physical presence with me. He strengthened me, guided me. He's held me when I hurt, and gave me courage when I was afraid. He's talked to me through some long dark nights, and simply sat during some others. A companionable silence. A companion. A friend.
I explained myself last night to some friends. I've begun to bitterly consider God to be a God of whim, rather than a God of love. I'm a stickler for words. If you say ask and you will receive, then when I ask, I expect to receive (assuming I've met the prequalifications of course). Yet I've stopped asking. Mostly I've quit asking Him for things, not because I believe He can't do it, but because I believe He probably won't do it. And for the passionate and fiery, that's certainly a wet blanket to wrap yourself up in.
I just don't understand Him. He told me that I wouldn't. But I expected to understand a little more than I do. It's hard to fight with a general that waits on you to do a certain amount of prayer and meditation to figure out His plan. I thought I'd understand more.
But in all my lack of understanding, I've been seeing Him as someone I could divorce. Someone I could simply announce "I don't love you anymore" and walk away. And I can't do that.
Tonight my little one wandered around the house playing with toys, whining and crying the whole time. For a solid hour, she played and whined. Finally I shoved all her toys aside and said "What's the matter?" with a trembling lower lip and big tears rolling down her cheeks she said, "I need my mommy." I held her as she cried until finally she fell asleep, exhausted from the sadness of her loss.
I saw myself in her. Feeling as though God had let me down, I hold Him at a distance protecting myself. I took myself from Him. And now, down this road, I find myself exhausted, tired, and sad. And I find myself not asking for God my friend, but God my father. I need my Father.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
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