We’ve all had them. Days when the roof over our head feels like a concrete slab that nothing will penetrate. We feel as though our prayers are a gray cloud floating above our head, never reaching God’s ear. Isn’t the evidence all around us? God hasn’t heard. Nothing has changed. We are dealing with the same trials today that we dealt with yesterday.
Life is messy.
Messy relationships. Messy houses. Messy office politics. Messy desks. Messy creative spaces where the muse refuses to come out and play for fear of being tainted by our messy life.
Life is hard.
Homes consumed by fire or flood.
People we love hurting… ill… taken from this earth to early….
We’re tired. Worn out. Unheard.
Our lament is like that of Jeremiah, the weeping prophet. Even when I call out or cry for help, he shuts out my prayer. Lamentations 3:8
It’s so hard to remember that these feelings have nothing to do with reality. No matter how thick the ceiling or heavy the cloud above us, God hears. God is at work.
For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. Isaiah 55:8-9
We can’t comprehend God’s logic or timing. He is God. And we are not.
This one week. Two dads. Two diagnoses. Too many questions. Too many uncertainties. For me. But not for my God.
Yet this I call to mind
and therefore I have hope:
Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, ‘The Lord is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him.’
The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him;
it is good to wait quietly
for the salvation of the Lord.
Praying. Even when praying is hard.
Because I can’t find the words.
Because the words I have are painful and colored with fear and anger.
Towards Him – my omnipotent, unchanging God.
Who is big enough to take my anger and offer me life-giving love in return.
My Abba Father – who sees my bad prayer days and instead of a temporary fix,
offers me his Son and all eternity.