I mean, just let the irony settle in for a minute. Will I even be able to explain myself this time?
First of all, I'm tired. I've been weary of life for the past few months. I know, I know, "Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice." I am, I am. It's just taking so much more effort these days. It feels like it's taking so much out of me just to wake up, go to work, go to church, do the most basic of household chores. Funny example: I've needed to take out the trash for a week, but I just haven't. I've just stopped throwing things away. I'm not burned out from doing too many activities. I'm just...tired inside.
I sit down and try to write, but I've been stuck for three weeks at the same scene in a story. Probably because I'm trying to write about something that's more complex than a blog about hugging or the crazy people I meet at Jerry Lee's. I've even skipped meals because I couldn't make myself get up to fix them or even *imagine* going into Wal-Mart to buy anything more substantial than Goldfish crackers. (I'm not a starving African orphan or anything, so it's OK.)
God is good. I already know that. I'm not about to curse God and die. I have so many things I can point to in my life and say, "God is good." I'm just...dragging. I don't know.
I had a pretty bad day today at work. One thing happened that ruined everything. Consider that this comes behind a string of days where I've felt either mostly dead inside or constantly worried, and I was unable to cope. So I spent the day angry and worried about what's around the corner. The whole day.
So tonight I heard this sermon that was, in part, about how the creator of the universe is exponentially holier than we can even fathom, and his ways are higher than our ways, yet he cares for even the sparrow and no doubt cares for you and me. Well, I hope that's what it was about, because that's what I remember hearing.
I heard. I did. I just ignored it.
I drove away from my church's parking lot after the sermon, just intending to drive around. I was taking the long way home. I passed the grocery store, thought about the peanut butter and jelly sandwich I was going to make myself when I got home. But my mind soon wandered from snacking to my day at work...the past month at work...the past few months...the dreams I want so badly to fulfill but can't even get off the ground...the people I thought I'd forgiven but really haven't...the things I want to change in my life but can't...
I hit a red light. I began breathing heavily, like I couldn't get air even though I really obviously wanted some. My heart was beating faster than the beat of a techno song. Somewhere in there the light turned green and I drove on in a relatively freaked-out state for about 10 seconds before pulling into the First Pentecostal Church of Pascagoula, despite the fact that I was not wearing a long skirt or Keds tennis shoes.
It was actually a relatively short panic moment. Felt like an eternity, but the car clock said otherwise. I remember after it was all over standing outside of my car for some of that humid June, pollutant-filled air thinking, "I hope nobody notices me standing out here like an idiot."
Then God spoke up.
"I notice."
Dang. He went there. And in first person, too. The implication was clear: I was caught, and that's not how my heavenly father ever intended me to live my life.
What do you say to that? Is there an easy way to explain to God that you're so worried about the future, which is one of those things explicitly prohibited in Scripture, that you can't drive home without taking a pit stop to panic? Or maybe that's a good time to light up a cigarette and tell him that you've got everything under control?
Maybe not.
So, I took some Job 40:4 advice* and didn't say anything. I was still, and for the first time in awhile, I really knew he was God.
* This scripture was also referenced in tonight's sermon. I totally pay attention. I should get a cookie or something.
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