Have you ever been mad at God?
A Preacher's Wife I know sat down and told me on an occasion lately that it's ok to be mad at God.
Then she told me last week, via Facebook message, that the Jews used to climb mountains to shake their fists at God.
I believe it. I've read Job.
She also said He didn't want you to stay there.
Well, I'm stuck. Or at least I was last night. I'm not exactly sure if I am halfway up or down the mountain at the moment.
I do know that I'm worn out.
This is week 4 of treatment protocol, our 2nd in-patient. I've heard stories about long term care givers and what it does to their bodies and souls. Didn't get it till now and we have 38 more weeks to go.
I'm sure this feeling is due in large part to the exhaustion and stress from the move and, as Dave calls it, inheriting other people's problems (of which we've had many.)
And I'll say it again, God does show up - especially through people.
That doesn't take away the anger I felt last night in the hospital. This was the darkest prayer and anguish I'd felt toward my God, ever. I was so angry - if I could have screamed and not woken anyone up (not just Sophia - we were on the "quiet floor" this time around with all the transplant kids), I would have raged.
And I'm good at rage.
I know that He gives strength to the weak and weary. I know He knows I am both and I know He is giving me strength. I felt like we'd been released from prison tonight as we walked to our car. I was almost giddy, thinking they might change their minds and want to keep us. Like hostage mentality.
But in the end - as I told a mentor on Monday - I just really wish He would show up.
Sometimes, I think I'll invent a new category of prayer - the "wishing" category. You know, the things you only whisper to God and God alone. Maybe you do that too.
I do know it's ok. I can't read my Facebook page/message or Team Sophia's page without breaking down in tears. I know there are people that understand and I know, one day, Sophia will be grateful that I shepherded her through this.
But right now I just feel like the sheep dog who can only bite the lamb's heels to get her to move.
Some people pray best in the middle of the night, I just pray raw. I know He gets it, He did too. That whole take this cup from me thing is about the rawest of pleading and wishful prayer you could ever get. It is a mixture of anger, desperation and hope. What an odd combination, but there it is.
You may have been where I have been, but maybe not. I still think big things are going to come of all of this, but that is my far away rational self. She will come back, hopefully soon because everyone likes her - rational Amy.
Dave is great. Natalie is good. Sophia and I are just plain worn out. But we are home and there is great comfort in that.
If you happen to be awake in the deep recesses of the night, as I am sure to be, no fancy prayer needed. All I'm going to say is "I am waiting for You to show Yourself in all of this. I can't do it anymore, it has to be You."
Pray that with me - I know He will hear us.