|pic courtesy of morguefile.com|
Here's the deal, I've been talking with a friend recently. She's been listening. I've been venting. She's the one who told me, "it's not all about you." I'm the one who cried and then had to stop talking about it all. She's the one who loved me. It had nothing to do with her and everything to do with life and how I see it and how I deal with it.
Good ole life....
The other morning, I was showering. Sometimes that is the perfect place to have it out with God. Usually no one is bothering me (it helps to be the only female in the house, I get the bathroom all to myself). It's a brief quiet retreat, where I find myself praying alot. Except this particular morning, I wasn't being so spiritually wonderful with my prayers. No, instead I was prayerfully yelling at God.
And yes, you read that correctly, I was yelling at God.
I'm not sure how anyone can really go through life with God without admitting that you get mad at Him. Honestly, the Big Dude, is wonderful, amazing, creative, loving, the author of life, He is ..... well, He is God! But, I'm not. I'm human. I'm imperfect. I really, really don't understand everything. I try hard. But well, I get frustrated and tired and sometimes ..... mad.
I'm saying it out loud. I'm publishing it for you to read. I get mad at God.
For the record, I'm not going to be struck down by a lightening bolt.
It's totally frustrating, to be mad at God. The problem is, He is never wrong. He always sees the rest of the picture including every part that I don't see. He knows me way better then I even know myself. He knows our circumstances, the people we are around, the children we are raising, the bills, the desires of our hearts, He knows them all.
And yet, I still get mad at Him.
Coming up.... The Reality of Being Real