I'm Angry

Recently, my church has developed a young adult group.  My two sons actively participate and I already see the insight and teaching specific to their generation affecting our home in a positive way.  Too old for a teenage youth group and too young to feel confident integrating into the adult groups, these 'kids' have found a safe place to be themselves, taking turns leading the Bible study and allowing themselves to be vulnerable with their peers.

Last night, my oldest son Danny told me he shared something about me during the meeting and he was hoping I wouldn't be upset.  Mentally ticking through my many shortcomings, I braced myself for his revelation, though I decided long ago that transparency can be freeing.  We went to a private place in the house to talk, away from the rest of the kids who had come over after group as they often do.  Earlier, as they poured into the house, I was told that some of them took turns sharing their hearts while the rest of the group prayed over each one.

Now sitting together on the porch, Danny lowered his voice and expressed what was on his heart. "Mom, I told everyone tonight that I pray for you every day and I see you getting worse, not better.  I confessed that I'm angry with God because he's not answering my prayers.  It's like He's not even listening.  It makes me feel like it's pointless to keep praying. I hope you're not upset that I shared this with everyone." (Speaking of sharing, Danny gave me permission for me to write about our conversation).

What Danny didn't know was that I had come face-to-face with my own sense of  prayer-defeat just a few hours earlier.  After scrolling through my social networking site and sending up prayers for the many requests I had come across, I found myself wondering why God didn't appear to be answering even my simplest cries for help in areas that I thought should matter to Him, let alone my petitions for others.  Throughout my disease process, He has miraculously fed us each day, and I have had enough - just enough - to accomplish all I need to keep my household afloat, but I've grown weary of asking the Lord for healing, strength and specific provisions because the response so far has been complete silence. When help comes through others I feel secretly betrayed by God for putting me in the position of being a 'taker', when all I've ever wanted to be was a 'giver'.  I regularly give the Lord my tithes with the barely conscious expectation that He's somehow obligated to repay me with interest. When I realize this, I humbly ask that He realign my heart to give freely so others receive the blessing, however insignificant it might seem.  I find myself trying to find the 'formula' for getting my prayers answered whether it's in the form of giving, humility, thankfulness, forgiveness of others - the list goes on.  I wonder which of my sins are hindering my prayers, or is it lack of deliberate, sincere faith? I attempt to model my prayers after my foster parents, who sometimes included, "If Thou wilt, Thou canst" in their petitions. (Matthew 8:2) Trying to figure out how to 'make' God come through for myself and others has worn me out. 

Yesterday morning, I mechanically sent up my prayers as usual, wrapped in a vague sense of  pre-disappointment that God was not going to help, yet stoically proud of myself that I at least pray for others when I say I'm going to.  I also wondered, "What's the point?  God will do what He's going to do, no matter what I pray."  I need to add a disclaimer that I want to keep it real here in my blog, warts and all. This  is not my usual frame of mind, but I have to admit that I come to these introspective 'dead ends' sometimes in my journey with the Lord.

Well, the more I thought, the more discouraged I became.  Anger eventually replaced my self-pity as I mulled over my present helpless state.  Why wasn't God healing me or even hearing me?  Why did I have to face each day with the determination to just get through the next 24 hours with a smile on my face for my kids' sake?  I thought and thought and thought, trying to figure out God, chiding myself for my mental exhaustion and unbelief.

Suddenly, I remembered a sermon I heard over twenty years ago by Wendell Calder, a powerful New England evangelist who visited our little NH congregation from time to time. I'll never forget the freedom I felt when he simply said we can bring all of our thoughts and disappointments to God in prayer. With his broad, fatherly smile,Wendell added that we're not fooling God because knows what we're thinking anyway, and He's not going to reject us when we come to Him no matter how bad the subject matter is. 

With that reminder, I realized that I had been emotionally shutting myself up in a closet filled with deceiving thoughts of doubt.  I was facing it all alone, deflating my faith with anger and an even darker fear that maybe God didn't really care, after all. Even when I prayed, it was as if I threw scribbled wish lists at God from under the door of my closet as I nursed my deepest fears in seclusion.

In that moment, I figuratively threw open the door and sat down with my Father to express my disappointment, and even my anger to Him with honesty. Alone in the darkness, I guess I blamed God for a lot of things, but as I turned my secret thoughts into a sincere prayer, there was no blame - only humility and a realization that He really does listen to my heart. God loves me with a perfect love and answers with his best plan. What He asks for in return is my love. A love that bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things and endures all things.  Is it too much to bear, believe, hope and endure all things if I love Him with all my heart, soul, mind and strength? Ah, but that's a subject for another post...

My Father replaced "What's the point?" with "Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much (James 5:16)"
-and-

"My situation is hopeless - does He love, does He even care?" with "Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us (Romans 5:5).

I rose from my time alone with God refreshed, peaceful, joyous.  He took my anger and replaced it with faith - real faith that I could trust who He is, no matter what I think He should do. When I was reminded of God's character, his unsearchable love and understanding of things I will never comprehend, I was able to let go, having a renewed confidence that He is willing and able to carry me - much like a toddler who free falls in the air knowing without reservation that his dad will catch him every time.

Sitting alone with Danny, I quickly reassured him that I wasn't upset.  More importantly, I confided that those same 'what's the point' thoughts had been racing through my heart just a few hours earlier.  I understood his anger, and so did God.  I encouraged him to turn those thoughts into a prayer because God knows what he's thinking anyway, and He will never reject anyone who comes to him with honesty.

Whew! What a day!  Lesson learned? When we surrender the ugly 'truth' of our emotions, they will be replaced with peace and confidence in the One who is the way, the truth and the life!

Our Father,
Thank You for welcoming us with tender care even when we present ourselves to You with doubts and anger.  Help us to realize that Your wisdom and timing is perfect and no amount of biblical formulas or 'holy manipulation' on our part will be able to force Your hand into giving us less than what Your heart desires for us, no matter how good we think it is.  May we cease striving and rest in complete confidence in the One who holds the Universe in the palm of His hand.  Help those who are discouraged to just pray through their defeat, and to keep on praying, no matter what.  Thank You that You are faithful, even when our faith falters.

In Jesus' Name...