Sometimes I wonder if I’m just constantly missing the point.
I’m usually the sort of person who gets what she wants. That sounds weird to say, but I’m persistent, and friendly, and optimistic, and generally I can combine those elements to make the things I want to happen, well, happen. Every once in a while, though, something I really want will just plain elude me. Which sucks, obviously, because it sucks to not get what you want. But I can’t help but wonder sometimes if the desire for something God simply isn’t going to give me right now exists not to torture me, but to prove something to me: God is still good, even when I’m not getting my way.
I know, I know, it’s the most basic Sunday school lesson in the history of time, but it’s also one of the hardest things to really drive into your heart. God is great, and greatly to be praised, and that is true if the sun is shining and I’m dancing in the street, and it’s true if I’m frustrated or angry or disappointed. It’s true when I’m waiting. It’s true when I’m crying out. It’s true when everything around me seems silent, and it’s true when the things I want are simply unattainable.
I used to get a lot more upset when I didn’t get my way – lose my cool and throw an adorable little temper tantrum in God’s general direction. Recently, though,I’ve been scandalously close to something I’ve been praying about for a long, long time, only to have it fizzle out before it ever really started. I want to be mad, really, and I went around in emotional circles with it for a while and spewed my heart out to a lot of my innocent friends and family. But ultimately, I can’t help but see what I gain in the losing. I get to stare disappointment right between the eyes and realize that I’m still ok. I’m still fearfully and wonderfully made, and I’m still part of something so much bigger than I am. I get to learn that the world won’t end without whatever I’m coveting at the moment, and I get to explore how to take myself out of the equation and just pray for someone because it’s the best I can offer. I get to be lifted up by my amazing community, supported, loved, and I get to trust, blindly, and wait. I’m not usually good at waiting. I’m learning as I go.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish I could see the plan, understand what God has in store for me and be able to avoid the long, winding paths I seem to have to walk down to learn my lessons. I’d be superhuman if I didn’t get scared, and stuck, and itchy, and worried, and antsy. But here’s what I know: Whatever God’s plan is for my life, it’s better than what I’m able to dream up on my own. His grip on me is firm, and His love for me is solid. I can hope with confidence, because my hope is built on a promise that He isn’t going to break. God is good all the time.
Doesn’t that sound well-adjusted of me? Here’s where the missing the point part comes in: somewhere in me is that stubborn, relentless little Pollyanna voice who refuses to stop believing, who keeps on singing and hoping and generally refusing to accept defeat. She’s still convinced the whole thing could turn around at any minute, that we could still get our way after all, that anything can happen. And as much as I want to be the girl who learns, who is peacefully and happily willing to accept a closed door and what God wants to teach her, well, I sort of love that stubborn little voice. She’s got spunk. She’s a fool, but she’s got spunk. 🙂
Oy. Pray for me. 🙂