photo credit: luca m photography (creative commons)
Last week was a hard week for me. Do you ever have those spiritual ups and downs and you just wonder how long it will take to get out of them?
Me too..
As a matter of fact, I’m still working on it.
I finally got myself woke up last Tuesday morning from nightmares that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy and I was mad. I was mad at God. I was mad at the world. I was mad at my dreams. I was mad at the devil.
I picked up the bottle of sleeping aids next to me and threw them across the room. If I don’t take something to help me sleep, then insomnia rules the night. I felt like I was in a no win situation. I was trying to figure out how I would make it through the day. I wanted to see no one. I didn’t want to talk to anyone.
I was not counting it all joy. Thinking 4:8 thoughts was not on my agenda. I was tired. Tired of dreams. Tired of fighting so danged hard. Tired.
I did what I was supposed to do on my list.
- lunch with a client
- phone calls
- return emails
- put together a proposal
I asked those closest to me for prayer, and in their best attempt to make me feel better, I received spiritual answers. To be honest, that was the last thing I wanted to hear. I was already feeling guilty for being mad at God, then I would be sorry. Then I would be mad. I felt like Job and I just wanted to tell them all to shut up. But instead, I smiled on the inside, took their suggestions and went about the day.
I finally had to lie down and take a nap. I had nothing left in me by 4p. I had already decided I wouldn’t be working out and I certainly wasn’t going to small group to be around others I didn’t feel like being around. I had struggled throughout the day wondering if I wasn’t spiritual enough. I would get mad at God, then feel guilty. It seemed to be a cycle. I woke up about 45 minutes later, did some more work, ate dinner and went to small group. I decided my feelings were not in the place to make decisions for me.
When I got home that evening and got ready to settle into bed, I decided to journal. It’s one of my greatest forms of expression. Here’s part of that conversation between God and myself:
“Here I am. Part of me wants to talk to you and part of me doesn’t. Of course you already know that, because you already know my thoughts before I do. I’m tired and I don’t understand. I know I’ve told you that a gazillion times already. I don’t know what to do and I desperately want to know. What do I need to change? Please tell me. You promise that you will never leave me or forsake me, but when I woke up this morning I felt left. I felt like you weren’t there. I know that’s not true. Show me something. Tell me something please!”
By the end of my lamenting I was drawing closer to Him.
“You are my strong tower. My ever-present help in time of need. You are my Father. My friend. My protector. My strength. My wisdom. My heart. My everything. I know you’re not going to leave me. I’m not going to leave you either! I don’t want to do that again. I don’t ever want to be where I was in August 2009. NEVER! I want to sleep with Your Word close to me tonight. I know you are there. I know you are. I know you’re not leaving me. I don’t understand and I won’t pretend like I do, but I’m going to continue to trust you Father. Forgive me for my lack of trust today.”
That’s just what I did. I closed my eyes with my Bible in my hands. Still without understanding. But I chose to believe that He wasn’t going to leave me. Tomorrow would be a new day. I started that morning pissed off. But the night ended renewing my mind with the promise that God would never leave me.
What promise are you holding onto? Comment below…