I feel incredibly vulnerable sharing this part of my heart but I know I am not the only Christian who has wrestled with loving God in the midst of despair. Here’s part of my story.
As I stood on a bridge in Philadelphia, I looked down at the water and wept loudly. People were all around me as they were walking to work. It was a normal day for them. I called my pastor friend and somehow got the words out of my mouth. They came out without hesitation.
“I hate Him. I HATE GOD!”
I sobbed. I was realizing that my son was dying. I saw it in the doctor’s eyes as I ran out of the hospital room. The indifference on her face sealed my understanding that time was short for my special, strong boy. The unbearable weight sitting on my chest was validated by the look in her eyes as she left the room.
I left without a word. Down the hallway of the cardiac intensive care unit I had walked a million times before. To the elevator. Out into the lobby and then out of the front doors of our hospital home. I didn’t know where I was going but I was looking for somewhere I could breathe.
So, I ran. I ran to the bridge not far the hospital’s entrance. I didn’t have a plan. I just wanted to breathe. I just wanted not to die myself. But then I wanted to die. To escape. I wanted to somehow just fall in that freezing water and stop being. I thought that would be easier than walking towards the next few days and facing my son’s death.
I looked at the water. I looked at the city. I wept.
As Pastor Jerry answered the phone, I sobbed my words out of my mouth. “I hate Him, Jerry. I hate God. Where is He? He is failing me. He is failing my son. Oh, I hate Him. Hudson is going to die and, where is He?”
I am an expert wrestler with God. I came to faith in Him kicking and screaming. I follow Him because He chases me down. The truth of His Word pins down my unbelief and breeds faith inside my soul. It does NOT come from me. I am prone to wander. Prone to run. Prone to blame Him. Prone to doubt Him and not trust Him. Prone to have anger towards Him. Yet, He tenderly calls me daughter.
Pastor Jerry sweetly and gently replies to my cries of hate, “Of course you do.” He did not correct me or scold my disdain for God or push me to believe in that moment of agony. He said he didn’t have answers and held me through the phone. He got it. He loves our boy too. Pastor Jerry knew grief and despair and gave me space to scream it all out right there in front of all of Philadelphia.
There have been many days since losing my son that I have hated God. Just like Pastor Jerry, God steps closer to my pain and says, “Of course you do, daughter. You are a broken-hearted mama. I see your tears. You are mine. I can carry all of your anger. Tell me everything. Nothing will separate us.”
So, I have hated God. I have blamed Him and run from Him. I have kept Him at arm’s length and given Him the silent treatment. I have not trusted in His sovereign, and sometimes painful, plan.
And yet, I have loved Him. I am His and He is mine. He remains faithful to the faithless. He is there when I scream at Him and He is there when I worship Him. He is there when I blame Him and He is there when I surrender to Him.
I don’t have all the answers in this broken world but I do know that God loves you even on days you might feel like you hate Him. Talk to Him now. He’s there waiting for you. Your anger won’t keep Him away.
Like Job, Hannah, and Jesus, you too can express your emotions to God at His throne of grace.
Friends, nothing will separate you from the love of Christ. Don’t be afraid to express your pain and suffering to Him. Return home. He will run to you.
He will call you daughter or son, and He will say, “Tell me everything.”
“Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.“
Hebrews 4:16
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