I think I cognitively know the right things about God. Of course, I will and should learn more, and I will add bits onto the frames I already have to fill them out. But I often find that I have more trouble believing what I know than I have in knowing what I ought.
Lots of people struggle to believe that God can take care of their problems. That He’s enough. I do not. I struggle to believe that He WILL. This thought is one of those that can be categorized as “daddy issues.” I remember as a kid, knowing that my dad could fix anything. I could hand him a lock that I’d forgotten the combination to, and he would get it open. I could break a bed, a toy, a whatever, and he COULD fix it. However, he often didn’t. Or at least didn’t in any timely manner. In fact, I might outgrow and no longer need/want the thing by the time he got around to fixing it.
Also, I always knew that my broken crap was an annoyance to him. He was pretty protective of his time and would rarely stop what he was doing to take care of my needs or wants. He’d get around to it when he got around to it.
I, of course, can’t help but transfer this thinking around to God. Even though I know what I know, I believe He finds my problems annoying and refuses to help me until He’s done piddling with his computer/car/movie… so I ask, expecting Him to leave me making-do until it suits Him to help.
That’s a messed-up thing to believe about God.
So… the depression thing has been happening. Probably the most important factor was church. I couldn’t find one that AT ALL matched me. And it was more important to me than just about anything else that I find a church. And I was honestly beginning to believe that it wasn’t a priority for God that I be at a church where I could flourish and settle in.
Then there was the book thing. I’ve been writing my manuscript for about 3 years, and it wasn’t working. I was fighting it the whole way and I knew I had the story I wanted to make a go with, but I felt like I was going to dishonor God in the way I was writing it and/or I was just going to toil forever trying to make it work.
Then there was the home thing. I thought it was going to work out with Shasta. But she got all weird and mad and I didn’t have a clue what I’d done, and she didn’t invite me to the wedding… and bought the house, which proceeded to break and I needed a roommate and Kendra came along, I so wanted it to work with her, but I didn’t believe it would. I couldn’t see how she’d be any less pissed at me for not being whatever it was she expected me to be, so I kept expecting her to say that I’d done something terribly wrong to her.
Then there was work and $. Work was being terrible, and I needed to not be 6/5ths next year, but I’ve got a mortgage now and going to Peru and the car stared breaking and is old.
And dating. I just never end up with “the one.”
So it felt like every area of my life was shattering and God was doing nothing even though he could fix it all.
So I was praying about it all, often in tears, often like WHY?!?!?!?!
And things with Kendra were inexplicably great rather than inexplicably terrible. And right after Ashly asked why church matters so much, and I didn’t know the answer, Andy Littleton planted his church and I went. And I sat there thinking it was too good to be true. I couldn’t focus on the music because it was better than it should have been. And I couldn’t focus on the sermon because I was like, “God, is this even real?” (Like the kid doped up on dentist drugs – “Is this real life?”) And I couldn’t focus on dinner because it was with the whole church and it was so good. And I was pretty sure I’d go back and find that it wasn’t real, but it definitely was. And Andy saw me walking up to the building yesterday and he met me at the door, which means more than it seems like it means, and he searched for and read my blog and everything I thought was awkward and judgable, he wasn’t judging. And then a check came from nowhere – more than I needed for my car and Peru. And then I got an impossible interview for the book. IMPOSSIBLE. And it’s all working out.
And I shouldn’t be surprised at God. Because He’s in the business of unmerited blessings and grace. I just felt like his blessings are reserved for others. Evidently He’s got a few for me too. Now, if He’ll just get on giving me the right man. 😉
I’m currently in Exodus, and yesterday I was touched by a verse that says, “The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent,” (14:14).
Sometimes it seems like I have to do something to get God to fight for me. Like I have to pray the right thing or have the right heart or whatever. But I was reminded that Israel was whining about how, “Weren’t there enough graves in Egypt?” which is a decidedly wrong heart, but He fought for them anyways.