Have you ever been mad at God? I have. Over the years, He and I have had a few tussles. They usually involved me wanting Him to rescue a loved one or me out of some kind of pain and suffering and when He didn’t, I would get angry and let Him know about it. Over the last several years, I have let my defenses down; believing that my suffering cup had been filled to capacity. I had survived my own personal childhood trauma and my older daughter and I survived the trauma of divorce and custody battles and the whole family suffered as we watched my younger daughter fight for her life from a condition called “failure to thrive.” These were all incredibly painful ordeals - surely our family would be exempt from any more major trials. I was wrong. My younger daughter had yet one more trial to endure. She was diagnosed with a chronic medical condition that was not life threatening, but it could, and currently was, interfere with quality of life with regard to daily functioning.
My first reaction was to get mad at God. Sort of like, “Are you kidding? Haven’t we been through enough?” I soon realized that getting mad at God was not a very good use of my time. My emotions were getting so high that my self-protecting mechanism kicked in subduing my emotions and allowing my functioning-self to surface. My functioning-self got a lot done. Doctor appointments were made, counsel was sought, school issues were addressed, etc. This was good. It helped me not feel helpless and it was productive. Even though I felt better, I continued to pray to God because in my heart, I knew that He was the only one that could deal with the inner turmoil my daughter was going through from this very public and uncontrollable, outwardly manifesting, disorder. The anger faded and, truthfully, I went a little numb so that I could do the things I needed to do for my daughter.
Finally, after 3 long weeks of an intense situation, things began to rapidly change for the better. God did specific things for my daughter that were so unusual that it was clear to me and others that He was aware and cared about our daughter’s troubles. Here is the odd thing and the confession I want to make. The first night that it became clear that the trial was easing up, I cried. You are probably saying, “What kind of confession is this? Why is this odd? Of course you cried.” The burden our family had been carrying for those several weeks was so heavy that when the lifting came, the whole situation seemed anti-climatic to me. As quick as the trial came, it also left. (Sara is still dealing with a chronic medical issue, but the severity and life-limiting aspect of it is under control at this time.)
As I was laying in bed that first night that I realized things were turning around, out of nowhere, I began to cry. The emotions I had kept at a level that allowed me to function now came to the surface with full force with a little surprise hidden in them. I confessed to my husband that I was having a very awful thought. I was thinking that God was mean. Yes, mean. Literally, I thought it was mean of God to put us through such an intense ordeal just to lift it like it was nothing. I was thinking, “Was that really necessary God?” You might say, “What? You should be glad that it is over.” I was glad, but these were my honest feelings. I had made a promise to myself not to suppress my feelings (something I had been doing for years) and to give them a “voice” when the time was right. It was right.
My husband was so kind when I asked him what he thought about what I said. He said, “I think God can handle that.” Even so, I felt like I needed to ask for forgiveness for having such a ridiculous thought. How I could think God - my heavenly, perfect, Father, whom I loved - could be mean was beyond me; especially when I knew in my heart that it was also impossible.
As I began to pray, if was as if God put up His hand to stop me. I felt His words wash over me telling me that forgiveness was not needed because there was nothing to forgive. “How could that be?” I asked myself. He went on to impress upon me that it wasn’t needed because there was a good reason I felt the way I did. He went on to reveal the source of this line of thinking. He reminded me that, as a child, I had a father who would often threaten my life – literally saying, “I will kill you if you do …. or don't do....” or even worse, he would threaten to kill my mother For me to think that a father, even a heavenly one, could be mean and threatening to me and my loved ones was very understandable in God’s eyes and, therefore, did not require forgiveness. However, it did require healing. A few healing words of Truth from my Father and this incident was put behind us - as far as the east is from the west, but there was one more thing that He wanted to address.
While I was helping my daughter though her trial and enduring the pain of it as only a parent can, my ability to hear God’s voice was nearly impossible. There was a voice that was coming in loud and clear and it was from the enemy. He kept whispering in my ear, “I told you He could not be trusted. I told you He would pull the rug out from under you when you least expected it.” These were familiar lies I had already overcome and I recognized them as such, but the pain remained.
One night during all this turmoil, I was dreaming and a messenger came to me in the dream. His voice was competing with other voices, but I did hear him say the words, “Second Corinthians” several times. When I awoke, I intended to look up the book and see if there was something God wanted to show me. For some reason, a distraction of some sort, I did not follow through. It was a few days after this dream, on a Saturday night, that I made my confession to my husband and to God. The next day in church, as I was listening to the worship music, it occurred to me to look up Second Corinthians. This is what I found:
18 But as surely as God is faithful, our message to you is not “Yes” and “No.” 19 For the Son of God, Jesus Christ, who was preached among you by us—by me and Silas and Timothy—was not “Yes” and “No,” but in him it has always been “Yes.” 20 For no matter how many promises God has made, they are “Yes” in Christ.
This passage may or may not make sense to you, but to me understanding flooded my mind. The message was loud and clear. When the enemy comes and tells me that God is untrustworthy and unfaithful and will not do what he said he would do, it is a lie. The truth is that God does not go back and forth speaking promises and then breaking them. His yes is yes. His promises are sure. I began to ask myself, “What are the promises God has made me?” The first two that came to my mind had nothing to do with specific circumstances, such as promising me earthly riches or perfect health or that a loved one or I would not endure suffering. No, the first two promises I remember God making me are these: “I will never leave you nor forsake you” and “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Overall, God’s promise to me is Himself. The promise is not just a heavenly promise - it is a promise for the here and now as well.
A “meanie” would never make the sacrifices that were necessary so that this promise could be fulfilled. Thank you God for your understanding and your kindness. Thank you that I was not alone in this trial even when I could not hear your voice or feel your presence. My assurance is not found in my senses. My assurance is found in who you are and my promised access to you.
