During the past six years, with hundreds of doctor and physical therapy appointments, three surgeons, six knee surgeries, and countless disappointments, I can say this: I’ve never been mad at God… until now.
Through the years, I remember people telling me it was okay to be mad at God. He understands our emotions. That thought stunned me. Why would I be mad at God? In fact, how could I be mad at God? This pain isn’t His fault. How can I praise Him when my life is going well, and be angry with Him when my life is rough?
As Job in the Bible says:
“…Naked I came from my mother’s womb,
and naked I will depart.
The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away;
may the name of the Lord be praised.” [Job 1:21 NIV]
But tonight, I found out — for the first time I was mad at God.
Recently, I had submitted all the my knee documentation to Cleveland Clinic. I was hoping there could be something, anything, they could do to help these knees. I want to get my life back. I want to stop wearing a brace every single day. I don’t want to live in constant pain. I don’t want to be so limited is what I can do.
I want to scream it from the mountain tops: I want something to be done! In fact, I would scream it from the mountains, but I can’t climb them.
The other day, I got the answer back from Cleveland, “I’m sorry. There’s nothing we can really do. You’ve had a lot of surgeries. With your hyper-mobility, no matter the surgeries that can be done to fix it, your body will revert to what it wants. Exercise. And if it still hurts in another one to two years, give us a call back.”
I was crushed. I couldn’t believe I’ve been waiting for six years, and just got told to wait more. I tried to keep my voice from cracking as I thanked the surgeon. I hung up, found a close coworker, and with tears streaming down my face said, “I just need a hug right now.”
Let me just be the first to admit, these past days have absolutely sucked. Truly, what makes it so hard that my hopes were raised in the hope that something could be done, and then utterly and completely dashed to bits. I’ve gotten used to the daily grind of knowing what I can and cannot do. Doesn’t mean I like it, but I know what I can do. But to have this big, juicy, mouth-watering steak dangling in front of me, only to have it stripped away just as I was about to take a delicious morsel, it was gut-wrenching.
Today, I wrote this down because it was just overflowing from me:
“Do You hear me? Why don’t You answer me? I’ve suffered enough down here. I’m tired. I’m worn out. I’m sick of living my life in constant pain. . .”
I got home from work and my emotions flowed. It wasn’t just an ugly cry, it was an uuuuugly cry. I kept asking, why God? Why won’t You heal me? I’m tired of this. This isn’t something I can go on vacation to get away from. Unfortunately, these problems are with me day in, and day out, with no vacations. Even at that point, I remember saying, I’m not mad at God. Thoroughly devastated by the news? Yes. Mad? No.
Then God decided to let me know what I was actually feeling, I was mad. You know the beauty of it? It wasn’t in the form of lightening in the sky, an earthquake, or overwhelming guilt. It was in the form of a small miracle.
We found some leaks while the boat was on the lake (an adventure to tell at another time), and now we can patch the leaks up. The problem was we couldn’t find the registration for the boat so we could use the motor. Granted, it has been about 34 years since the last time we needed it, but we’ve dug through drawers and files and couldn’t find the registration anywhere.
Guess what my dad found in his wallet today? The boat registration. Yes, the boat registration!
So, if you’re thinking it isn’t really a miracle, think about this:
- The last time we needed or seen the registration was 34 years ago.
- If it was in the wallet all along, it would have been transferred through three different wallets without even being seen.
- There was no need for us to find the boat registration today because the next time we would even think about needing it was be in the spring.
This is when God gently nudged me, and made me realize I was mad at Him. I knew this little miracle was for me, for some significance. I don’t even know the complete significance yet, but I remember thinking, “I know this was for me, God, but I’m not quite ready to talk with You about this yet.”
“…I’m not quite ready to talk with You about this yet.”
Yup. I do have a little anger in my heart, but while writing this the anger has dissipated. Somehow, acknowledging the anger has allowed me to let go of it. I’m not saying I’m 100% a-okay or that I don’t still grapple with my questions, but I feel a little more at peace.
Could part of it be that He was showing me He cares enough to have a boat registration be found on the same day I’ve had one of my hardest struggles?
“Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” [Matthew 6:25 NIV]
I know You love me, God. Forgive my anger as I trust in You because You are the author of my life, and the world.
“Then the Lord spoke to Job…‘Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation?…Who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from the womb…Have you ever given orders to the morning, or shown the dawn its place…?’ ” [Job 40 NIV]
Keeping the perspective,
Lauren
You. Are. Beautiful. 
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