Uncomfortable
God does his best work in me when I am uncomfortable. He moves the most when I am broken. He changes me for the better when I am at rock bottom. He makes me the most beautiful after I have nothing left. I am the most creative when I am somber. I am the most sensitive to others when I am in pain myself. I am the closest to him when I am the most confused, anxious, heartbroken.
This is perplexing to me. It’s not perplexing to me that I seek God when I am most broken. That’s human nature. We see it in the classroom all the time, my name is called the most when a child needs something. And we are nothing if not children in adult bodies. I understand that I am as guilty of seeking God only when I am in need...desperate need even. The Lord has made me to be an independent person, I am not someone who seeks help often. I enjoy figuring things out myself. And so it is no surprise to me that I do not seek God’s help until I am desperate. Until my mind cannot think a way through or out of a situation. As sad as this makes me that I do this, I can wrap my mind around it.
What perplexes me is how He does his absolute best work in me when I feel that I have nothing left. When I am mad at him, do not trust him, want him to snap his fingers and make me better; when I am full of empty promises to him about how I will be if he removes the pain.
About a month ago, I was listening to a song in my car called The Blessing. In the song, there is a bridge where the lyrics repeated over and over again are “he is for you”. Something broke in me listening to that and I started yelling at God, out loud in my car, that I did not believe he was for me. It was honest and it led to a very bad month where I was seeking God but not trusting him. I fasted for 3 days, praying, listening, and reading. And at the end of the 3rd day, I was mad as hell. I had cried too much, felt too broken, misheard his voice, had more anxiety and grief than when I started, and I was over it. When I woke up on the day after my fast ended, I had NOTHING left to give. I honestly did not care if God was for me, if he had me, if he had my situation in his hands or not, and I did not care to try to control my situation anymore. I gave up control out of sheer exhaustion. I didn’t willingly give him control, I wasn’t even consciously giving him control, I just didn’t care to control anything anymore. I didn’t want to be driving but I also didn’t really care who was driving. I just moved over from the driver’s seat while the car was still in motion and didn’t care what happened after that. It’ll either come to a stop with my foot off the gas, crash into something OR the wheel was gonna be taken over by someone.
And guess what?
It was taken over. The car didn’t crash, the car didn’t stop, life kept going, but someone took over the wheel and I fell asleep in the passenger seat. I rested.
And we haven’t arrived to our destination; we are not done with our trip. But I’m a passenger princess for now. Soon, I am sure I will force myself back into the driver's seat and things will start to go poorly again, but for now, I am happily resting in the passenger seat. I know I will become anxious again, after all, I am truly an anxious passenger, but in the passenger seat with the best driver in the world, I can relax. I can rest. I can converse with God without being distracted by driving. I can look around and take things in. I can wait to get where we are going knowing I am in good hands.
