Is God Against Me?

     I sit on my bed, wondering what I did to deserve this. This…this torture. Does He take pleasure in it? Why does God, the one who is supposed to love me more than anyone else, put me through such crap?

     

     As I lay there, pondering these questions that never seem to escape me, I feel the first tear of many begin to make its way down my cheek. I see it flow with the gravitational pull, and watch in horror as it hits my baby blue pillow. What am I to do but sit and watch as my life spirals out of my control? I ask God what to do, hoping that He might give me some sort of good answer, and He gives me the complete opposite.

     

     They always talk about it in Sunday school and whatnot. All of my pastors and teachers have warned me, tried to prepare me. But no matter how many times you inform someone, they will never truly understand until they experience it for themselves.

“God does not always answer prayers the way that we want Him to, but He always answers them the way that we need Him to.”

Countless.

     

     Countless times I have heard that phrase, or one like it. Countless times have I told myself that I would follow God into the ends of the earth, no matter which direction He takes me. If it be the hard path, let it be. If it be the easy path, thank You for Your mercies.

Where are my mercies?!

They said that You don’t always answer prayers the way that we want You to, but it seems like You never do!

What am I supposed to do?

Pray, pray, pray, but only end up feeling defeated?

     

     I thought that You were supposed to be my Saviour, my Rock, my Redeemer, my Everything! Why does it sometimes seem like You’re my enemy? Is this my punishment from past sins, the hard path? I have let it be every time, where are my mercies?!

“Are You against me?”

     

     I somewhat recall a phrase I once heard my friend say to me, “God puts His strongest soldiers through rough trials, so that He can make them stronger and that He might receive the glory for a miraculous event.” Why?

     I am NOT Your strongest soldier. Pick someone else, please! Why must I bear this burden time and time again of whether or not to obey You or live in sin? Why must it be so difficult? I know what I must do, but why can’t you make it just a bit easier on my weary soul?

     I prayed that You would show me what to do, and You did, but it hurt me terribly in the process. I came to You once again and prayed for weeks for an answer, but You decided to mix it up a bit.

You made me choose.

All I wanted was an answer. Straight forward, no twists and turns.

When will You give me a break?!

*Sigh*

But here’s the deal.

     For so long I have asked these questions, over and over again, searching for some form of answer. But as I contemplate my own questions and doubts, I begin to see that I knew the answer to all of my questions from the very start. I was just in so much denial, and I was so blinded by hate and anger to see it. What I needed was a big punch to face, and that was exactly what I got.

God doesn’t put His strongest soldiers through rough trials, He puts His weak ones. He tests us, pushes us, and now I know why.

He wants us to come to a point of such need and desperation, that all that we can do is fall on our faces and give it all to Him.

He is a jealous God.

     Don’t be angry at God. He is simply doing what is best for you. You just don’t know it yet. I have been through the same thing. I have had my points in time when I was so angered by God that I was on the brink of hating Him. Just the thought of it; I almost hated my Creator and Saviour.

It brings me to tears.

Don’t be so blinded by sin and worldly desires that you get to that point.

Trust.

Faith.

I know it’s hard. But believe me, it will all work out in the end.

     Because I listened to God the first time, I am right where He wants me to be. The process of getting there was not all rainbows and butterflies, but the ending conclusion was.

Trust.

Have faith.

That is all He wants from you. Don’t hate Him for that.

Fear

All of humanity has at least one initial fear.

A fear that has the power to corrupt and annihilate everything in its path.

Yours might be water, heights, insects, germs, or even society itself. But not Samantha’s, hers is much deeper.

     Samantha Baker, a straight A student with athletic skills that could make any WNBA player look like an amateur. Or at least, that’s what everyone at school thought.

She possessed no fear in the world. She would take on any dare, face any object, and sometimes, she would defeat them. “Samantha the Fearless” her fans would call her. But behind the curtain and when the doors are locked shut, she goes to close her eyes and rest her mind.

Her cheetah print blankets were as soft as ever, and her black, plush pillows, to die for. She had had a good day at the gym, and plus it was finals week; she was exhausted. So, why couldn’t poor Samantha sleep?

Fear.

Samantha the Fearless, eh? She wished.

If Samantha was anything, it was a wimp. A complete and utter scaredy-cat.

     As she lay in her bed, trying her best to get right to sleep, she hears something. A slight whisper hidden within the wind. As always, she snaps her eyes open in search of the being tucked away within her room.

Samantha knew that she was acting like a five-year-old. There were no such things as monsters in the real world; only in her mind. But she still couldn’t fight her deepest fears.

She could feel the horrors of the night coming to find her. She knew, just knew, that there was something hidden in the dark; and it wanted her soul.

Or something along those lines.

While scanning her room, she caught sight of something in her full length mirror.

A face.

A face filled with terrible intentions and murderous objectives. A face that could only come from the deepest pits of Hell itself.

Samantha couldn’t seem to pull her gaze from the mirror. And as she continued to stare, the monster only seemed to grow even more terrifying.

She quickly glanced around the room for her iPhone. She knew that if she could get her hands on her music, all of her worries would be gone.

But it was nowhere in sight, and she could sense something attempting to grab her leg and pull her from her bed. 

She glanced back at the mirror, but the face was gone.

It had moved, but where?

Unable to find her phone, or move towards the light switch, she looked intently towards her window.

     It was partially lit up from the street light next to her house, which only made matters worse. If someone were to step right in front of her window, she could see their silhouette. That thought caused her body to tremble, and yet remain stiff from fear.

Powerless by herself, she knew that there was only one thing to do now.

Trust in God.

Samantha forcefully closed her eyes and tried her best to forget the world around her. She attempted to focus all of her thoughts on Him alone. But despite her attempts, she could still feel the cold and bitter stares of the evil monsters that lurked about her room. But God wouldn't let them touch her would he?

     After a long and stressful prayer, she rolled over onto her side; trying her best to accept the peace of which she asked for.

Even though she could still feel the darkness surrounding her, she knew that she would always be safe as long as she had faith.

Faith in God alone.

And if she had faith, she knew that she would never have to fear anything worldly again. Not even darkness. So long as she feared only one thing.

God.

Categorized and Fitting In

Do you feel as if you don’t fit in anywhere?

Do you feel like you fit in everywhere except the one place where you want to?

Not only that, but do you and your "peeps" get dissed on 24/7 for being...you?

Since I am a home-schooled, christian who also got spanked as a child, I know what it's like to be categorized and to not fit in. Having to grow up, constantly hearing about how unsocial and awkward I must be.

It sucks.

Yeah, I have only celebrated Halloween once in my life, and it was before I can even remember. Does that make me deprived?

No, I never believed in Santa Claus. Does that mean I have terrible parents?

                  Sometimes I feel like people, take one look at me and think...

                                   

              Especially now that I am entering the world of a college student/adult.

My whole life I have put on this front of, "I don't care what you think. I'm an American." And sometimes, I truly don't care. But no matter how hard we try, words still hurt.

So...where's the positive light in this, Korrie?

Thanks for asking, I was just about to tell you.

                                                In a nut shell anyway.

We are God's people. We were perfectly made. And best of all, we were personally hand crafted by the big man Himself.

So, answer me this:

If we were so wonderfully and perfectly made, why do we feel this need to always fit in? Why do we desire to be something that we are obviously not?

Strange creatures, humans.

We are always striving for something to fill us up and make us whole. Something that will allow us to finally feel complete. Man kind continues to search for what seems like the most impossible thing. Happiness.

And yet, He is always right there, staring us in the face.

So why won't we just accept Him?

Weird, I know.