I am a religious man.
I attend church, I read the Bible, I lead praise songs, I’m in a small group, I cook pancake suppers and if I don’t play my cards right, I’m likely to end up as Sunday School Superintendent.
(Yea)
But lately God and I have been having a tiff.
As you know we are hosting three teenagers while they try to find jobs and make their way through college.
This has not been easy.
Both from a time standpoint, a financial standpoint and a general stress level standpoint, it has been at times really difficult. Driving back and forth to the community college, searching the want ads, finding that my personal role is often “nag in chief” has all been a giant pain in the tuckus. To make matters worse, lately I’ve been feeling like all of this running (we put 50,000 miles on our minivan last year) and time and stress has begun to have negative effects on my own kids and family.
Throughout all of this, I have been praying every day for the last 9 months that these teens would find the motivation to accomplish their goals, that they would find a job that would allow them to be successful and that I would know what to do to best help them.
I am a patient man, but for a long time it has felt like those prayers have just been spinning around aimlessly in space, like that satellite we sent to take pictures of Pluto and then just disappeared. As far I’m concerned, God was clearly on vacation, or his voice mail box was full or something. I don’t know, but he wasn’t getting back to me.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I know the guy’s busy. Darfur, poverty, having to deal with everyone’s prayers for various sports teams, and of course that middle east situation has been on top of the “in box” for a few thousand years now, but still.
Things finally came to a head last week. Felicia seemed to have no interest in finding a job whatsoever. Jessie, who was very interested in finding a job, and seemed most likely to be successful, had gotten so frustrated with 9 months of waiting and rejections that he had decided to go home to Mississippi where there were certainly no jobs available. And my youngest child, Micah went in for an evaluation since he was 19 months and still not talking and was found to have significant, although not serious developmental delays.
I felt exhausted, overwhelmed, angry and generally annoyed, and I realized that I had been feeling this way for a long time.
I was worried that Micah’s delays were related to the fact that Aloysius came to stay with us a few weeks after he was born. Which meant that instead of regular naps, hours of being held in a rocking chair, and endless games of peek-a-boo, Micah was strapped in a car seat, or sleeping in a sling as I went from the community college, to preschool, to the grocery store, back to preschool, back to the community college, back to the house, where I cooked dinner and put him to bed.
It was a far from ideal babyhood.
And then as a capper, Sarah came home to tell me that her job was sending her to a conference (on extremely boring legal stuff) at Disney world and that the kids and I could tag along and we could have a mini Disney vacation on the cheap. I was so excited. So relieved.
This was exactly what I needed to recharge my batteries and regain my sanity. But then Sarah’s office decided that instead of sending her to the conference, she could just watch it on her computer as a webinar (Stupidest. Word. Ever.). So instead of going to Disney, now Sarah has to go into work on a Saturday to watch little people give power point presentations on her computer screen.
Now, none of this is exactly God’s fault. But I kind of felt like I had been doing everything that had been asked of me and that God wasn’t exactly pulling his weight around here.
Now, I’m not asking for miracles, but I did think there was some low hanging fruit here that God could have looked into.
Then somewhere during that week I got depressed and then I got angry.
Part of my problem is that I’m a fairly cynical person in the best of times, but my faith, for the most part, has been removed from that. However, once I start chugging down the cynical highway, it doesn’t take long for me to gain full speed.
(side note: as I’m writing this, Micah, who got up two hours earlier than usual, is pouring all of his cereal on the floor. I swear, if I didn’t take deep breaths, I wouldn’t take any breaths at all.)
And I recognize that these problems are not significant in the grand scheme of the world. I realize that in any objective ranking of prayer requests, these wouldn’t hit God’s top million or so, but come on? Nothing?
And so the more I dwelled on this, the more frustrated I became. I still read the Bible every morning, but I started to talk back to it.
“Oh my gosh Paul! No wonder the Galatians weren’t doing everything you told them to. You’re such a nag! I can just see all the Galatians now, rolling their eyes, “Hoo boy, another letter from Paul. What did we do wrong now.”
It’s also not a long walk from cynicism to doubt.
I mean seriously, most of this stuff doesn’t really make sense anyway. I mean, really, two of EVERY animal? Heck why not 4, just in case? They’re all going on the big magic ark!
And then it’s not hard to arrive at outright bitterness, such that when I’m sitting in church and the pastor calls out, “God is good!” all I can mutter back is “sometimes.”
I have the ability to wallow in self flagellation and depression if I’m not careful. It’s something I fight against. So, I knew that I had to pull myself back from the brink.
(Micah is now, walking around the floor, crushing the cheerios with his feet and then sitting down to eat the crumbs off of his toes. I would wait for our dog Minnie to come eat them, but she’s been hospitalized with pancreatitis – I told you it had been a week)
My prayers had become little more than snide throw away comments that very much resembled the kind of things that surly teenagers hurl at their parents:
“Please God, help me, if you can be bothered.”
Or
“Just, you know, do whatever you like Lord. Clearly that’s what you’re going to do anyway.”
Yeah, I was a real peach. How could God resist someone with those kinds of prayers?
Well, there’s an old Gospel song that goes:
“He’s an on-time God. He may not come when you want him, but he’ll be there right on time.” (trust me, it sounds better when sung)
Well, on-time or not, He did finally show up.
This week, Jessie, who we had basically held captive for a few more days while we tried a last ditch effort to find him a job, finally started work with the local Plumbers Union. It’s the first of about a hundred steps, but if it works out, it could be a wonderfully promising, and financially significant career for him.
(Can I just pause and say how annoying it is, that the first thing every one of my children says to me when they come downstairs in the morning is “where’s mom?” Not “good morning,” or “how are you dearest father, thanks for all you do for us.” Nope, just “where’s mom.”)
On top of that, Felicia, who I had all but given up hope on, came upstairs one morning and told me that her uncle had found her a job back home in Mississippi. This may not be the ideal situation, but I think it will be a really good fit for her.
So in a period of a few hours, two of our biggest concerns had begun to right themselves.
They always say that when God closes a door that he opens a window. This is good news, unless you’re too fat to squeeze out the window, which is why you shouldn’t eat too many of Drake’s Cakes’ devil dogs.
Of course, what they don’t talk about in church is that when God opens a door, he sometimes closes a window. (I think he’s into Feng Shui)
So what’s my point here?
I don’t know exactly. I’m more writing out of emotional release than any kind of intellectual direction (did you figure that one out already?) But let give you a list of 10 things I know to be true:
1. God is real. He’s often not as real or as active or as magical as we want him to be, but He is most definitely real.
2. He’s got his own schedule… and he doesn’t share it with us.
3. He will never leave you or forsake you… but he might give you a little time on your own, which can feel an awful lot like you have been left and forsaken.
4. Footprints is the most annoying poem ever, even if it is true.
5. God has a purpose. I don’t know if God has a plan. If he does, he’s having a heck of a time executing it efficiently, but I believe he does have a purpose for all of us, and that it is our job to try to figure out what that is and to try to follow it. That being said, it’s really hard to figure out (someone should write a book trying to help us figure out how to have purpose in our lives, maybe even how to have purpose drive our lives! I bet they’d make a fortune!)
6. God loves us. Sometimes it’s that annoying “tough love” that Dr. Phil is always prattling on about, but He does love us. He doesn’t necessarily dote on us in the way that we would like. But this is why God is often described as a “father” and not a “grandmother.” (boy wouldn’t that be sweet: You: “Hey God, please help me pass my math test.” God: “Oh, no problem sweetie, and here’s a cookie”)
7. God likes to teach us lessons. Unfortunately, the lessons are hard and the only cliff notes available were written in a real nagging tone to the Galatians. I don’t believe that God causes difficult things to happen just so we can learn from them, but I do believe that he uses difficult things to teach us. This is very very annoying, but unfortunately, fairly effective.
8. Crushed cheerios are really hard to clean up
9. Doubting and questioning God is all part of the process. It’s ok. You just have to be willing to keep seeking God amidst the doubts. God doesn’t expect you to be perfect, and mindlessly obedient. He understands that a lot of what’s going on doesn’t make any sense. I believe that he appreciates those who are actively trying to understand Him better, even if you understand him less in the process. Besides, he’s usually just stringing you along so he can show you something significant. He can be a real pain that way.
10. Life is better when it is a life lived with God. Now, notice that I didn’t say that life was easier, or more pleasant, or more financially secure. Those aren’t really promises we get. In fact, my experience is that life is probably harder and more difficult and with less finances (stupid 10%) when you are following God. ( I know, I know, worst sales job ever. This is why I’m not on the evangelism committee at church), but life IS better. It is better knowing that you are doing what the Lord asks of you, that you are working to help make His world a better place and that your efforts, though often unappreciated (where’s mom?) are still right, nonetheless. And lastly, that no matter how much it may feel that way, you are not alone. You are never alone.
Ed. Note: For all the heathens, athesists, moon worshippers, and all my other friends who don’t quite “get” the church thing. Don’t worry. I’ll be back to writing about government foibles, societal aberrations and my childrens’ poo on Monday. I just had to get this out of my system (see! I’m already writing about poo!)