So, here is another excerpt from the "book" where the lines between fiction and life blur. It's sort of a continuation from the last post.
And me? I was resistant. Because if I confessed Him to be enough now, then what of the last few years when my heart adamantly declared He was not enough? To confess Him now meant confronting my guilt. Guilt that I had not been submitting myself to Him these last few years. I had not been trusting Him. Instead, I had been demanding from Him a reason for my singleness and the singleness of the many girls around me who had grown up only wanting one life path: to be married and have children. I had been telling Him it was not fair and refusing to accept any reply.
But to turn around, say, “ok, I’m better now,” and recommit my trust in Him? It felt like hypocrisy.
Did God have grace for those in pain, throwing temper tantrums, stomping around arguing without listening?
I had come to a crossroads.
He was healing the hurt.
He wasn’t even condemning me.
But He was requiring of me a choice. Whether to continue to wallow in grief over lost dreams and what to me was a broken life and family, or to recommit my trust in Him—not because what He did made sense to me but because long ago I had decided He was worthy of my trust.
The worship leader’s voice and the words on the screen struck my senses with personal meaning. “Who can grasp Your infinite wisdom? Who can fathom the depth of Your love?”
I couldn’t grasp it. “Lord God, You are infinite. And at this moment in time, I choose to lay aside my anger, my disbelief in Your goodness, and my grasping for You to change Your ways, and I submit myself to You again.” Embarrassment and guilt combined to bring shame. “Forgive me for how I’ve acted towards You through this.”