Angry at God

Ever been angry at God? I am. I finally figured it out this morning. I have been really angry at God. So I did something I learned a long time ago. I told Him. I did not slam the door in His face as I did with my family as I child. I went straight to Him and poured out my heart to Him.
Not only did I tell God I realize I have no right to be angry with Him, and that my circumstances are easy compared with the challenges of the rest of the world, but I told Him the truth. I told Him how I feel, and I asked Him some questions. I shared my grief with Him, and I pressed into Him rather than turn away.

I did not scream and yell at God, though I certainly have before. Nor did I shake my fists at Him, though I have done that also. Instead, I opened my heart to Him and told Him what He already knows lies inside. And I was reminded that God is not my father on earth. He is my Father in heaven. He does not abandon me because He does not like what I have to say.

He opens His arms instead to me and asks me to climb inside His hold. He understands why I am hurting. He knows I feel He has let me down. He does not forsake me because I do not live up to His expectations. He does not hate me for questioning Him. He loves me.

“Lord, I know I have no right to be angry at you,” I told Him. “You have blessed me so much,” I continued. “I know I don’t need to understand,” I said to Him. But here I am anyway, angry.

He loves me no less. He simply shuttles me into His arms and holds me tight. I am not alone in His hold. I am lost in His embrace. Warm. Safe. Held. Loved. Accepted. Acknowledged. Though He does not explain what I desperately long to understand, He reminds me of this. I do not need to know His reasons. I simply need to know this.

He is my Father, and He knows what is best. He longs for me to trust Him, and to rest in knowing He has, and is, and will always take care of everything. He wants me to be a child again. Only this time, He does not ask me to endure what I experienced the first time I was a child.

He wants me to be His child now, able to laugh and play because I know my Father takes care of me. He also wants me to know it’s okay to cry and be angry because He loves me as I am.

God, I don’t want to be angry anymore. Please forgive me for being angry at you. Please heal me. I hurt, God. I do not understand what happened, and why it happened that way. Nor do I understand what is still happening with the situation I speak of. Forgive me for not trusting you, and for not honoring you the way you deserve. Thank you for loving and accepting me as I am. Please hold me, Lord. 

Thank you for letting my tears drop into your lap. They are inside, heart tears. They do not fall from my eyes. They fall from my heart. Thank you for catching them with your loving, safe hands. And thank you for turning them into the joy of knowing you love me. I love you, Lord. I don’t deserve your mercy, not considering how often I fall short. But you give it to me nonetheless, and I thank you for it. Lord, my mother used to un-slam the doors I used to slam with anger. You don’t un-slam the doors. You simply take my hands and pull me into you. 

Oh Lord, how can I ever describe your love? I can’t. I just know I want more of it. I want more of you. Please help me to follow Jesus. Please strengthen me. Please help me to stand and walk. But right now, Lord, as I rest in your arms, please just hold me. I am weary. I want to rest in you. Thank you, Father. Thank you for never forsaking me. Amen. 

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