Waiting On God

This past month has not been an easy one for me. I’ve felt the ground beneath me give way. I’ve felt like I was falling off the face of the earth, with no one left to catch me. I’ve cried. Then I’ve cried out to God. I’ve been so frustrated with Him. Where was He after all? Where was He in my suffering? Because I certainly couldn’t feel Him with me.

In the midst of the chaos, I wrote this poem to Him.

I am angry.

Confused.

Frustrated.

Lost.

Why, God?

Do you think it’s funny?

Laughing up there at my mess?

Throw me into the storm

you know

will sweep me

under. Let me be

thrown

tossed

scraped

against that pain again.

Grasping, gasping, searching.

For something,

anything

to pull me up.

I’m not laughing

if that means anything

to you.

But I am waiting.

Waiting on you.

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After I had written out my frustrations, I wrote this small paragraph:

Right now, this is how I feel. With sleep, time, and prayer, I hope to write another poem that is the flip-side of this perspective. A more God-centered view that I just don’t have right now and a view I definitely don’t know how to write.

This weekend, I went to Grand Island for the Weekend of Champs. I served as a huddle leader for a group of high school-aged girls. I came into camp feeling empty and unprepared to spiritually lead a group of girls. Who was I to lead them? I couldn’t even write a response to my poem, and believe me, I tried. I was stuck in this bleak and dismal perspective of waiting and not knowing.

For two days, I was bombarded with reminders of God’s love for me. I was reminded that God knows all of me intimately, and he still WANTS me. He still came down and gave his life for someone who doubts Him the instant things are hard.

I was presented by the question: Do you think it’s worth it? YES, YES I DO. It is worth it, absolutely. My trials are nothing compared to the surpassing worth of knowing Jesus Christ my Lord (Philippians 3:8). In my pain now, God is with me. He sees it all. He understands it all. He loves me so deeply and cavernously. He loves me in ways I will never be able to articulate. I can’t describe the shift I felt as He encouraged me and changed my heart. I only know that I went from wallowing in the depths of my own misery to being able to set my heart on Christ.

After a week of trying every day to draft a response, I was finally able to at camp. I sat, pen in my hand, allowing God to put into words how I felt.

I can see now

I was a part of

my mess.

With fingers covered in paint,

I was spreading and smearing.

So frustrated that

the stains were growing.

Unable to grasp the bright smears

came from already dirty hands.

Not realizing I was trying

to wipe away what I didn’t

have the power to.

Loving eyes looked down

below. Watching the spread.

It’s my mess.

But you clean it anyway.

You reached

down with clean hands,

ready to come to

my rescue. I never had

the power to stay afloat.

Of course I would drown.

I had to wait.

Wait on you.

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Wait on God. I promise that He will renew you and sustain you.

 

 

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2 responses to “Waiting On God

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