Hold Onto Hope; Chapter 42 is Coming.

Sometimes I liken my Heavenly Father to my earthly father. In some ways they are the same. My Daddy loves me unconditionally. My ABBA loves me unconditionally. My Daddy wants good for me. My ABBA wants good for me. My Daddy talks to me nearly every day. My ABBA does as well through His Word. But sometimes, subconsciously, I paint some of the flaws of my Daddy onto my ABBA. Sometimes, I forget what His Word says over and over again. I forget how mighty He is and how weak I am. How limitless He is and how confined  I am to the outline of this fleshly robe.

That’s idolatry btw.

I struggle with promises. If someone says they’re going to do something for me I check back multiple times; “You sure?” “Forreal?” “Are you 100%?” “If you can’t just let me know.” “You’re sure, you’re sure?”

It’s exhausting.

It’s not that I’m not trusting. It’s just I know that things happen. Babies get sick. Finances get short. Patience grows thin. Time runs out.

But ya’ll.

God is outside of time.

He is the epitome of patience.

He is Ruler of Heaven and Earth.

He is the Great Physician.

My husband and I have been hitting our knees multiple times a day for the past three months asking for direction and for the Lord’s Will to be done. We have prayed that if what we are about to embark on isn’t His Will, to shut the door no man can open and to open the ones no man can shut.

We had confirmation after confirmation.

Pictures of the future played in our head.

We had “Yes” after “Yes”.

Relief flooded our hearts and praises sung from our lips.

Then it seemed we ran smack into a big, bold…

NO.

What. The. Crap.

My husband became bitter and I blubbered.

“ABBA! Why? Why would You let us hope and dream? Why would You play us like this? It’s cruel. We needed this. Donald needed this. Father, if not for me, please. please. please. Do it for him. He is so stressed and if You could make this happen I know we would be better.”

I looked up into the starry night above. The world and wind was still.

“It’s not a location problem, it’s a heart problem.”

I dropped my head, called my dog who was busy peeing on a fence post, and went inside.

I filled my pillow with tears until I drifted back to sleep.

The next day we had an appointment with our therapist.

Poor guy.

We let him and God have it.

We both blubbered our bitterness out into the air and as soon as we did, we regretted it.

ABBA was right. It wasn’t a location problem, it was a heart problem and we couldn’t see it until we were bashing Him and giving Him the charge for something someone else, some other force, was responsible for.

How could we have been so. friggin. blind.

How could we have gotten it so twisted?

How could I have gotten it so backwards?

Heck, I’m reading in the book of JOB for goodness sakes!

This “pulling out of the rug beneath us” was not ABBA but Satan.

I had likened ABBA to my Daddy.

Eager to give us something good, let us dream and hope about it, only to not be able to deliver it.

But God is bigger than circumstances and way stronger than Satan could ever wish to be. The rug he pulled out from under us was allowed so that we could see just how much we needed God to steady us.

I had pulled a JOB.

“God, where have I sinned? Why am I being punished? Did I not proclaim Your Word? Why am I being rewarded evil for good?”

I had just recently shared my testimony of God’s goodness in my life to an entire congregation of people. The Spirit had definitely moved. I was just the willing vessel.

“But I was willing, Lord? Why? Why are you punishing me?”

I should have known an attack was coming soon. Not from God, but from the enemy. We should always be on guard, even more so after a victory for Christ.

We should be just as careful on the mountaintop as we are on the side of the cliff climbing up.

I can see the old serpent now, “Of course Donald and Stephanie praise You; You’re blessing them. I bet if You tap the brakes on this ride they’ll resist You.”

I sobbed. I just can’t get it right. I failed another test.

So I did what any girl does.

I blubbered on Marco Polo to my girlfriends.

And one of my friends so gently encouraged me, (though she could very easily bring a grown man and probably Satan himself down with her killer jits moves.)

“God wasn’t testing you, He was teaching you. So what did you learn?”

I’ve been pondering over all of it. The last three months, the recent week, the hour in the therapist’s office, but most of all ol’ JOB.

You know what I learned.

Hold onto hope. Chapter 42 is coming.