Why is it that I have to hit rock bottom in order to stop pushing God away? Am I the only person who does this? It seems that a normal person would praise God when things are going well and lean on Him when she has trials. I have to be hit over the head with a 2×4 and knocked completely off my feet in order to trust Him. Why is that? I’m like my daughter when she was a toddler. Sometimes when she threw a tantrum I would try to pick her up. She would stiffen and become as ridged as the 2×4 I mentioned earlier. That stiffness made it very difficult to hold her until she finally became exhausted and collapsed into my arms. I am so afraid of going back to that ridged hardness toward God. It comes from having this analytical brain that He created in me. I can easily rationalize Him away when I still have strength to do things on my own, when I think I don’t absolutely need Him. But when I have nothing left in me, no energy left to struggle, He is still always there to hold me, just like a good parent consoling a hurting child. I guess I should take heart, my daughter has grown into a strong young woman of faith. Maybe one day I will too!
I am growing through this, that’s for sure! I tried grieving while pushing God away at first after my husband’s death…it did not go well! This time I’m too exhausted to fight and so I’m letting Him hold me through it. I grieve both loves now, and yet I have peace. My fear is that, like a stubborn toddler, I will go back to wanting things my way when I become stronger, that I will stomp around and wag my finger at God and say, “No!” as I have in the past. But that fear is not from God. I have to trust that he made me with a strong will for a reason and that he is working in me now to change and grow me into the adult person of faith that I’m meant to be.
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Oh, to grace how great a debtor
daily I’m constrained to be!
Let thy goodness, like a fetter,
bind my wandering heart to thee:
prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
prone to leave the God I love;
here’s my heart, O take and seal it;
seal it for thy courts above.
From “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing” by Robert Robinson 1757
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