Saying thank you to God in the midst of our circumstances is definitely different than saying thank you for them. And yet, scripture tells us to do both.
I have had a bad week. I have cried until my eyes were bloodshot and the sheets were soaked with grief. I pretty much told God that we would have to talk about it later. I stared at my Bible on my nightstand and then reached for the book next to it instead. I take a lot of opportunities on this blog to show you my adoration for the Lord. Every word I have written has come from my heart, and I love Him more than I could ever begin to describe.
Really. Truly.
But I didn't want to talk to Him this week.
As a sidebar, I am sure that the God of creation is getting a kick out of me actually writing out the fact that I was acting like a 5 year old.
In a sense, I feel like these words may cause some of you lose a little respect for me, because you may have an image of me, kneeling by candlelight with my Bible while my children sew doilies and laugh about the preposterous things that society is presenting on prime time television.
Actually, I do love candles, and Kate did tell a stranger that she can't watch Dancing With the Stars because "my mom said it is trashy and those ladies don't wear panties."
For the record, that is not exactly what I said.
But I do think they need to do a little more "ballroom" and a little less "half-naked gyrating." Until then, we are sticking to Shirley Temple.
So, I try. I really do.
I look for Him everywhere, in everything. I talk to Him like He's right next to me, and I feel more safe in the presence of God than I could describe in words.
But.
Thank Him for the death of my child?
That's hard.
Monday was particularly bad for me. It was raining here, and the world just felt all wrong. Todd suggested I go to the gym and get away for a little while, so I did. I had my music full-blast, which, as I soon discovered, does not prevent God from speaking. I was staring outside at the wet road, running away from Him, content to keep up the pace.
I started thinking about what Greg had written, and I imagined how beautiful it would be for me to have the kind of faith that thanks God for death. I admire those
who can do it. I want to be a woman like that, who is so fixed on eternity that this world never shakes her. I told myself that if I could just get the words out, He would transform my heart to believe that I meant them.
Lord, thank you for...
I couldn't finish the sentence. I started crying and running faster. I put on a song I love about what the crucified life looks like and I tried again.
Lord, thank you for...
Nope.
I closed my eyes and just listened to the words, and after a few minutes I felt myself start to long for Him the way I haven't in the last week.
***keepin' it real detail- at one point I was so lost in worship that I raised my hand up off the elliptical machine handle, lost my balance, and almost fell off...***
I had a good talk with God (starting with, "Hey, God, that was awesome how You didn't let me wipe out in front of a room full of people."). At one point, I told Him I didn't understand how in the world I could thank Him for the death of my daughter. I told Him (I'm just being honest here) that I didn't think I could ever say those words.
How sweet and reverent of me.
Maybe I should post a doily pattern instead.
But as my Bible study leader Ms. Nancy says, "He loves you right where you are, but He loves you too much to leave you there." The beautiful thing about our Lord is
that He doesn't mind our questioning, as long as we do it with hearts that are sincere in longing for truth. I want to be right with God. I want desperately to bring Him glory. But sometimes, I just have to shake my head and say, "I don't get it, Lord. I don't know that I have it in me this time..."
Later that night I took Ellie and Abby to run errands with me, and on the way home we stopped by this new Thai restaurant to get some take-out. While we were waiting, we found a little table in the corner and started talking about how the day had been. I told them I missed Audrey, and as soon as I said it, I remembered something that Ellie had said in prayer.
"Ellie, you know how sometimes I ask you to tell God something that you are thankful for?"
She nodded.
"And you know how sometimes you say that you are thankful that God took Audrey away?"
She nodded again.
"Why do you say that, honey?" My voice cracked. She looked at me like she didn't
understand why I was so confused.
"Because she's in heaven, momma. And she is so happy. So we say 'thank you. And we will see her again.'"
"So no matter what, Ellie, you can say thank you? Even if you don't like it?"
"Yeah."
"So would you say 'thank you' if someone stole your bike?" I studied her face.
"No."
"Well then, what would you say?"
"I would say 'would you please give my bike back?'"
I laughed out loud.
Because it made sense to me. I am just human, and you know what? It isn't going to be tied up in a neat bow. I can say all the fancy, pretty words that come to mind, and at the end of the day, sometimes I just want my bike back.
Maybe you do too.
We all want to feel like our hurts have been redeemed, don't we? If we could just see the big picture, and all of the things that God sees, maybe it would be easier to thank Him for the things we shake our fists at. The things that cannot be fully redeemed in this life.
For those of you who have read my blog for awhile, I won't have to explain this photo. A few weeks ago, I heard Abby yelling, "I figured it out, mommy!!!! Come see!!! Now it's going to be so great!!!" I started walking toward her room, and this is what I saw.
We want to fix it in this life, don't we?
And it hurts so much that we can't.
It will be redeemed, friends.
Maybe not here, and maybe not soon, but it will be redeemed.
So, in the meantime and in the midst of great disappointment, may we keep our eyes on He Who knows what we do not.
I am going to give you a Thanksgiving challenge, and I want you to know that I will be taking part in it as well. Sometime today, I want you to find a quiet moment in your day to sit in the presence of the Lord. Write down one thing that you are thankful for.
And here's the catch.
It has to be something you don't feel thankful for. It may be something you are carrying with you everyday, and haven't found a way to let go of. A divorce, a death, a loss, a deep wound, a regret you can't shake.
I want you to write the words. "I am thankful that..."
You might not feel like you mean them yet.
That's okay.
Tuck the paper away in a book, put it on your nightstand, throw it in the trash if you must, but write the words. There is astounding beauty in obedience-the act of trusting the Lord with the parts of life you want to cling to the most. I am praying that the Lord will take this seed, this offering, this piece of crumpled paper, this giving of thanks, and He will begin to grow a tree of beauty in our souls.
I am praying for you all. May we all remember this Thanksgiving as the one where we learned what it looks like to start thanking God for it all.
Happy Thanksgiving, Sundays.
Go make it a good one.
Angie
