Last week I wrote about resting and remembering. Can I just say that remembering is very, very hard? So hard, in fact, that I need regular reminding....and once I'm reminded, I can't believe I forgot. But I forget, and I forget HARD. So hard that hopelessness sets in, among a myriad of other paltry emotions.
What did I forget? As my beloved mentor reminded me this morning through my tears and through my anger and angst, he asked, repeating words that were once spoken to him, "Have you ever trusted enough to rage at God?" Uff. And the forgetful, angry, messy Heather couldn't even figure out why. The messy Heather thinks linearly. The forgetful Heather thinks that if I do something, like pray, it should result in something good happening. Like, I should FEEL BETTER after raging at God. 'A' plus 'B' should equal 'C'. But I often don't feel better after raging at God, the little bit I've allowed myself to actually go ahead and do it. So the 'why' felt very foggy to me. He gently reminded me why:
"To give Him something of your heart."
Oh, forgetful Heather! How you forget His goodness! How you forget that He is after your heart, and all you have to do is offer it! But how hard that is when our heart is full of stuff that feels totally off limits in front of a holy God.
Rage? Should a Christian counselor be FULL of rage? I told my husband the other night that I hated everything and everyone. Good heavens. But yes, that's how it is. And I CANNOT pretend to be any other way. I CANNOT pretend that everything is unicorns and cupcakes because that's a lie. I'm horrible liar. So rage. Yes, Christians feel rage.
But what happens when we don't rage at God? All manner of depression and anxiety and bitterness. I speak from experience. *Ahem.*
See, He's showing me what's really inside of me. And it ain't pretty. He wants me to know what's really in there, to show me the depths and richness of my sin, so I better understand this grace and salvation I've been given. To CLING to Him.
My dear mentor also reminded me of how much I love Jesus. If I didn't, none of this would matter. If I didn't, I wouldn't be so upset about it all.
Near the end of our conversation, I clumsily asked if there would ever be a time when I wouldn't need to be reminded of these truths (there were more truths, but I'll save that for my next entry), knowing what the answer was.
"Most certainly not."
And so. I will cry. And I will be brave and tell the Maker and Sustainer of the Universe and Angry Heather how I feel about it all. All the truth. Every dirty crumb of it.
And whether I feel better or not, I will have a deeper connection to the Only One who truly holds my Hope and my Tomorrows. And that will be enough.