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I'm Disappointed, God.

For years I trudged through the valley. Positive pregnancy tests continually cued incoming storms of grief.

 

Losing six babies in miscarriage in five years was hard enough without all the inevitable hardships of regular life. I found myself wanting the world to pause for just a minute so we could catch our breath. To just slow time long enough for me to catch up on the laundry, make a meal plan, process a hard conversation or reconcile myself with reality.

 

But it didn’t. Life kept pressing on and I soon found myself caught up in a sea of depression, in a whirlpool of complicated thoughts.

 

As I look back on what seemed like the hardest years of my life, I think one thing led to my sliding down the slippery slope of despair:

 

A small view of God.

 

In my “valley-walking” years, even as I prayed for a miracle in my belly, I subconsciously held onto ways that would prevent me from feeling disappointed in God.

 

Even the best of friends can disappoint us, so if God is only a friend I can justify His allowing my womb to carry more death than life.

Even fathers let you down sometimes, so if God is only a Father then I don’t have to wrestle so much with feeling betrayed by the death of a child.

 

It is so tempting to conform Christ into the image of my earthly relationships. I have felt the knot in my stomach when someone I admired disappointed me, and in my fragility I did not think I could bear being disappointed with God. I saw all of my faith unraveling if I really admitted to myself what He already knew was true in my heart. I say this with great care, praying that it resonates with someone else: it felt like if I was disappointed with God, He was less…God. And then what would I do?

 

My years trudging the valley of multiple miscarriages had narrowed the vision of my faith. I sensed my soul swinging from the cliff of asking “why” and the cliff of being too afraid to ask “why.”

 

Requiring answers for my suffering puts God in a box. First of all, my understanding is limited as I am a limited being, so His answer must be one that I could even make sense of. And secondly and most frustratingly, His answer probably wouldn’t satisfy my questions anyway.

 

He is Creator God; the one who placed each star in the sky and rolled every beach with sand.

He is God Almighty; the one the wind and waves obey.

He is the gentle Father; cradling me and all my cares in His capable hands.

He is the suffering Savior; well acquainted with the taste of blood and the betrayal of friends.

He is the perfect King; ruling His upside-down kingdom with triumphant mercy.

He is the friend of sinners; willing to put on my sins so I could put on His righteousness.

He is an ever-present Helper; able to uphold the universe and minister to me without breaking a sweat.

He is Alpha and Omega; the author of my story and the finisher of His glory.

 

My disappointment does not dethrone God. My fear of trusting God with my feelings means that I believe my feelings to be powerful enough to threaten Him. A right view of the greatness of God leads to humility. In humility I can admit what I’m feeling about God to God and ask for the faith to trust His higher ways.

 

It’s been six years since our last miscarriage and I find myself yet again asking God for relief. Wishing the world would pause so that I could catch up on laundry, meal planning, processing hard conversations and reconciling myself with reality. But it won’t. The car still needs gas, our marriage still needs a date night, the kids still need new shoes and what has been discouraging is still discouraging.

 

But I remember what the Lord showed me in the valley. I can trust God with my mess of feelings, requests and weariness because the same God that keeps the earth spinning in the galaxy is keeping me. My faith is not something that I have built with my own understanding, it is something I receive at the feet of the Father.

 

He is bigger and better than the biggest and best I can think of.


"The kind of faith God values seems to develop best when everything fuzzes over, when God stays silent, when the fog rolls in." - Philip Yancey

 



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