Whenever I cannot sleep because my mind is going, going, going as if it were running a marathon that never ends, I squeeze my eyes shut tightly and force my mind to visualize myself laying cozily in the hand of God. Usually after a few extra deep breaths, I can relax and go back to sleep. Thursday morning was not one of those times. I just couldn’t get comfortable in God’s hand this time. I’ve always felt “held” in the past, but at that moment, I did not.
I climbed carefully out of bed and walked out to the great room and looked outside to see if it was raining. It was dark and warm with a slight breeze but no rain. I opened the sliding door and walked with bare feet out and sat down on a damp chair, put my head down in my hands and began to sob. I’ve been holding my emotions together by a thread lately and at that moment I just railed at God and the Universe into the gentle breeze, not with words, but with sobs and sighs and deep breaths.
My own sobbing brought me back to a time when my son was only 10 years old and had tried out for a travel baseball team that he had been involved with the previous year. I had just gone over to the park district to look at the posting of the players for the new season listed on the door of the building. His name was not included. As a mom of an anxious boy, I was very aware of how much he wanted to be a part of this team and a huge sense of disappointment rushed over me and I felt so helpless for him. It was probably the first real let-down that he was to experience, and I was going to have to be the one tell him.
I remember going in to work at the church preschool that morning and before facing anybody else, I went directly up into the sanctuary and sat down in the quiet space and prayed for peace and understanding…but inside I was a wreck. I didn’t speak out loud, but my thoughts railed at God as I looked up at the altar with sobs and sighs and deep breaths.
This memory kind of seems ridiculous now as I look back on it some 25 years after it happened. It seems like such an insignificant moment that in retrospect doesn’t even count in the course of life’s storms. However, it occurred to me on Thursday morning that after my current moment of despair, that my son had moved on after the disappointment. He joined a wonderful team, coached by his dad. They went on to win the championship at the local level and had a very good time with all of his friends, minus the pressure and the competitive nature of the whole “travel” team. It turned out just as it needed to be, just as God intended it to be.
I realized in that moment, that what we think is the “best” situation or solution to a problem may not be the “right” one. I’ve learned this multiple times, yet I still wail angrily at God when it doesn’t seem to be moving in MY preferred way…This living with uncertainty and disappointment while waiting for God to reveal WHAT the next thing is, is so difficult. I just keep forgetting the lessons I have learned.
After I got the grief and anger out of my system, I knew that I was just being impatient. God was still holding me in the palm of his hand. My concern for my children has not changed, nor do I think it ever will. The issues and concerns I pray over my children are related to health, mental health, job security, financial stability and the very lives of my grandchildren. All of these issues seem to be so much more important and life altering than 5th grade baseball in the grand scheme of things. It seemed as though I had been looking at “travel” baseball tryouts through a huge magnifying glass back when it happened. It seemed so very important at the time and it wasn’t easy to trust that things were going to work out, but they did. I longed to take the magnifying glass off of the current problems the my children were facing and tried to see them through a lens that would bring me closer to God. I want to trust, but then that darn doubt creeps into my brain in the wee hours of the night. I do know in my heart that the issues will resolve, one way or another, in God’s perfect timing. He doesn’t seem to mind that I’m not a fan of His timing, but God is usually right.
After my good crying jag and some sobering thoughts and realizations that I cannot control any of it, I swore at the devil out loud,
“Leave me and my family alone, dammit!” and went back inside.
I turned on the shower, stepped into it and let the warm water run over me as I stood there. It felt to me like a renewal of my baptism. The water was softly flowing over me and cleansing me as if it held the power of the Holy Spirit to restore me. The Spirit was rinsing away all of my resentments, fears, negative thoughts and anxieties. Afterwards, I felt better, stronger and closer to God. I was dressed and ready face the day by the time the sun began lightening the sky.
Gail Mehlan
June 2019
