I read this in my quiet time:
Have mercy on me, O God, for I am in trouble; my eye wastes away with grief, Yes, my soul and my body! … But as for me, I trust in You, O LORD; I say, “You are my God.” My times are in Your hand. Ps. 31:9,14-15
This past week I’ve just felt like, “Ok, enough. I’m tired of living at someone else’s house. I’m tired of not having a steady income. I’m tired of sharing my son. I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of having no idea where our life is going. And I’m tired of people saying, ‘Oh it must be so special for you to get to have Dutch be with his grandparents all the time.'” Yes, it is special. Ok, but not so special that I don’t start to just want my own home! You know? That’s just how I feel. Sorry. Griping here. But that’s what I was doing to God. Saying, “Ok, God! It’s time! It’s time now! IT’s been 13 months…too long! It’s time.” And then I open His Word and there is this psalm, written thousands of years ago by David who had it way worse that me (he lived in a cave), and somehow articulated my heart.
I am frustrated. I am tired. I am emotional. The laundry’s not done, the bathroom is an absolute abomination (even Jeff said yesterday, “It’s really gross in here”, and everytime I open the microwave I want to throw up but don’t have the energy to get out the chisel and start to work. My son still throws a fit when he wants a cookie, and I feel like all I do is discipline him, then he’s an absolute angel for my parents and smiles and says please. I’m tired of breastfeeding, I’m tired of cooking, and the hope of a full-time job and a place to live seems to be getting dimmer.
BUT GOD. That’s Jeff and my life phrase. But God. No matter what the above paragraph says, BUT GOD takes the train of thought on a complete 180 and turns it back to God. But as for me, I trust in You, O LORD, even in the midst of grumpy frustration and waiting, I trust in You, O LORD. My times are in Your hand. He knows what’s going on. He knows I’m at the end of my patience and sweetness. He knows I just cry to Him and say I can’t do it right now. He knows my times. And my times, every thing and every stage and every season, is in His hands. He knows when we will move out, and He knows what is best. And somehow He’s decided now is not the time. So even though it feels like He’s taking a nap right now…I know He’s not. He never sleeps nor slumbers, but is always working. Jesus lives to make intercession for us, and He’s praying for me right now, praying I’ll not succomb to my weak and whiny self-centered self, but praying I’ll surrender (again!) to the loving care of God. He holds my times.
Do you have something you feel like God perhaps forgot about? Like, We’re trying to have a baby, God–don’t You care? Or, Why haven’t you healed me, Lord? Are you able? Or perhaps, When will you move in this desperate situation, Father? Are you real? Whatever it is, I pray that we can somehow turn 180 and resolve, I trust in You, O Lord. My times are in Your hand. Remember this. He holds our times.