He is with you

Today I got mad.

Today I got mad at God.

I have had a front row seat to my sister’s journey with chronic back pain from dislocated/bulging discs.  I don’t remember ever buying a ticket, but I get to see her struggle to live her life with this health condition that seems intent on staying bad.  I have watched her go from strong to weak, from mobile to immobile, from better to worse.  All the while, I have had to say things like, it will be better. This will soon come to an end.  You are going to be fine.  All things are well.  The script goes on and on.  I have had to watch her cry because she is just tired of this new “normal”.  Hope grows faint and even for the best of us, faith really gets low. 

I have counted out the days, that turned into weeks and then months and then years.  I thought to myself, we are nearing the end of 3 years.  My niece turns 2 and for all of those years she has never known her Auntie to be any different than this new normal.  She knows, somehow, that Kal is different from everyone else.  To her, Kal stays mostly in the basement surrounded by walkers, crutches, wheel chair and a remote control bed.  She knows that if she needs to be picked up, that she doesn't raise her arms to Auntie Kal.  She knows that she has to wait for Kal to climb up the stairs and sit out of the way until she has cleared the last step.  This is normal.  So I have watched Kal cry as bits and pieces of her life have been taken away – independence, privacy, and things that seem so small but amount to so much when it is no longer there, like lifting up a baby on your own.

So today I got mad.  I didn’t know that this was how I was feeling.  I mean, I have been saying all the things that one is expected to say for so long that the hypocrisy of it was lost to me. Until today.  I saw her crying and I went in my car and began praying. A verse had come to mind, “If my people who are called by my name humble themselves and pray, then I will hear from heaven and forgive sins and heal their land.”  I said it over and over and then I acted upon it. I prayed for her healing, for grace to walk through this.  As emotions took over my prayer, I said to God “Why have you not done this?  I know you can do this, why won’t you?”  It was then the damn of tears broke. 

I felt sure I had overstepped my place.  I mean this was my Heavenly Father.  My tone was definitely not acceptable to my own ears.  I felt deeply convicted, but more than anything, I felt totally loved.  I dared to speak again, and he whispered Believe.  I said we are so tired. So he said “Come to me all who are weary and I will give you rest.”  I said I am sorry. He said “don’t hide your truth from me, I seek those that will worship me in spirit and in truth.”  I said I really want you right now and I felt like his arms wrapped around me, so I could lean into his “spiritual hug” that I cannot explain but that I just know it was. 

I cried some more, but because I was caught up in His presence. He heard me. He heard me when I felt I was being disrespectful. He loved me when I thought I was not deserving of his compassion at that time.  He encouraged me when I was discouraged. He offered me strength when I felt absolutely weakened.  I had to know that he never left us.  Even now, I am agreeing to His truth, that he has been walking with us through this experience.  He has not abandoned us, nor will he ever, but walks closely.

There is an end to this matter.  He reminded me of the many things before that had attacked my sister’s health and mind that also came to an end – never again to be revived. The IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome), the shaking for no reason and apparent mental disconnect, the “can’t be touched” as a child, the screaming when awaken and the list continues.  They all came to an end.  I am not going to wait to see the end, I am rejoicing right now.

I am writing this because I believe that someone needs to know that Jesus is with them through their very difficult situation.  I know, you don’t feel like he is, but the truth is that he is.  Don’t despair, you have not been forgotten or forsaken, he is with you.