In Which I Learn a Lesson8:05 PM
I was worried all week. Worried to the point where my worries cropped up in my dreams, leaving me a regular insomniac.
I knew not to. He had assured me He would discipline me if I ignored His word and His promises.
I was particularly perverse this week. I prayed myself to sleep and asked for help and He showed me the answer and I, the brilliant daughter I am, stared at it and cried out for Him to help me. (My God is a very patient God.)
He pointed out my path and I covered my face and said, "Show me the way!"
He gave me the strength and I fell at His feet and snivelled, "But I can't do it."
I am not a very patient person, but I am ever longsuffering toward my pet sins.
He wasn't. After I had ignored His loving reproof, His word, my upbringing, my way out, my path, He finally hit me over the head -- so to speak. The thing I had been worried over took a sickening turn for the worse: the dreaded Christmas play practice.
I had imagined the weather to be sunny and the room cheery. It was the worst weather we experienced this fall and the gloomiest of settings.
I had imagined everyone to show up on time and have everything ready to go. Half the participants were hunting.
I had imagined being calm and collected and cheerful. I wasn't. I wanted to cry. I felt bitter disappointment. I wanted to quit.
To make matters worse, people weren't very sympathetic. My youth group leader, after a lesson on trusting God (which I tuned out because I was in need of it), used my circumstance to illustrate the lesson -- never knowing he was giving the most hard-hitting sermon ever. I was so frustrated with the truth that I couldn't even pout. Then every time I (kinda, sorta) complained to my pastor about the ridiculous circumstances, he kept pointing out that it was for God's glory; God was in control. Yes?
I was -- ashamed.
I didn't get to talk long with the people I wanted to. Things didn't go my way at all. I left church depressed and wet and cold from the gray dampness.
He didn't say, "I told you so" -- even though now would have been the most opportune time, seeing that I had been studying James 4:14's take on man's plans. He let me sulk and point fingers, but even I had to admit, wryly, thankfully, that it was a very apt consequence for a very delicately wrought sin.
So that was my lesson -- if you pray for divine help, let it be known you will get it, either kicking or screaming or sitting quietly at the feet of Jesus. The bonus takeaway? My God is patient, loving and frighteningly effective -- and I love Him, even in time out.