Five-Minute Friday: Find. A single word prompt. Write without overthinking or editing. And go:
Sometimes I find myself shaking my fist at the circumstances of my life, which sometimes leads to my shaking my fist at God. As if what’s happening to me or my family is His fault. I know in my heart and in my soul that this isn’t true, but sometimes, in the moment, it makes me feel better.
But, only briefly.
Then, I find myself wrestling guilt rather than God.
And that’s worse, isn’t it? Because while God is big enough for my BIG feelings and my anger and my tantrums when life is serving me more than I can bear, guilt is all-consuming. It consumes me and my joy and my ability to respond in hope or faith or with any sense of rational logic.
Then, I find myself back to shaking my fist at life and the circumstances. And usually, this is when the tears come.
Because of course my anger isn’t really anger. It’s a safe place to hide hurt and pain and the grief of unmet expectations, expectations that haven’t lived up to what I planned.
So often, this is the case when I deal with my seven year old’s Asperger’s. And we’ve had some rough life patches lately. Nothing has gone according to any of our expectations, and there have been meltdowns and there have been hurt feelings for a seven year old who doesn’t know why she’s disappointed or why life isn’t going the way she thought.
And, in all of that mix, I fall apart in the late hours, after everyone else is asleep and I’m safe in the darkness.
And so it’s there, in the darkness, with my tears and my fears swirling around me, that He is provides me what I need more than anything: His presence. His presence that brings His assurance and hope and comfort and peace.
He is there.
He’s been there in every tear and every upset that’s led me to that moment and He’s there in the darkness when I needed to find a place to pour out my pain. He was there to catch every tear and to whisper hope, His hope, to my weary mama’s heart.
He is my refuge and my strength and I know that I don’t have to figure it out or have all the answers.
He is what I was looking for and hoping to find. And He is there. Again. Always.
(This post is part of Kate Motaung’s Five-minute Friday at Heading Home. She gives us a word and we write for five minutes. This week’s word: Find)