You know how, during the whole wandering in the desert bit,
the Israelites kept forgetting how awesome God was? They kept forgetting how he
brought them out of Egypt, the amazing, miraculous works he performed, the way
he constantly led and provided for them. It was like every week and a half
they'd forget everything that happened and freak out and start sacrificing
their favorite earrings to make livestock gods out of shiny metals. I don't
know if religious amnesia is a thing, but if it is they had it. Sometimes I
read Exodus and all those other Old Testament books about the misadventures of
the Israelite nation and I think to myself, "Seriously guys? God just
parted some waters and you walked through. Shouldn't that be enough to keep
your focus for at least a few years?!" But it wasn't. And despite my
annoyed judgment toward their ridiculousness, I've realized lately that I too,
suffer from a pretty severe case of religious amnesia (which was a terrible
conclusion to come to because I really enjoy sitting in my ivory throne of
righteousness, eating my donuts and watching The Office and judging the
insanely asinine life choices that others make. But it's much harder to do that
when you realize you make those same life choices. Not impossible, but harder…)
As many of you know (because I quite often broadcast my panic
attacks on Facebook), I've been in some pretty stressful predicaments as of
late. The major ones were the fact that the IRS is trying to make sure I never
rise above the poverty line (mission accomplished IRS, you get a gold star) and
the other was the whole "I may or may not be homeless at the end of
May" deal. Both of these things sent me into a downward spiral of panic,
fear, more panic, utter despair, an overwhelming desire to give up on life, and
then an even stronger overwhelming desire to get 8 more pugs and wind up on
Animal Hoarders (I still haven't ruled out that last one).
The IRS business is pretty self-explanatory. They made me
give them a solid $3000 more than I really wanted to. I don't think I need to
expound on why that was upsetting and stressful. The housing situation is
slightly more complicated. My roommate is moving when our lease is up at the
end of May, meaning I needed to find an affordable apartment on my own. Turns
out, living alone is crazy expensive. I had a super hard time finding an
affordable apartment where I didn't feel like I might get stabbed every time I
walked out my front door (which, surprisingly enough, was mild to moderately important
to me). I finally found a great, affordable apartment in a neighborhood that
didn't make me feel like I was on an episode of Law and Order: SVU, but
apparently lots of other people have the same criteria I do when it comes to
apartment hunting (cheap and not murder-y), so there were zero openings in the only apartment complex I loved.
They told me there was a 1 week period at the beginning of
April where they'd get notices of who was moving out and told me to call back
then. Well I did call back. I called them back hard. I called twice a day for
about 8 days in a row (annoying or refreshingly persistent? We'll never know).
They had nothing available. Around Thursday of that week I really started to
panic. If nothing opened up, because of the time lines of when I had to be out
of my apartment and when their apartments would be available, I was going to be
effectively homeless starting May 23. Yes I have people I could stay with, I could
put my stuff in a storage unit and try again next month, I could live out of
the backseat of my car, I could live out the lyrics of Reba McEntire's "Fancy." But believe it or not, none of those options were my
first choice. It seemed so stressful and so much more difficult (I want you to
know that I recognize how whiny that sounds. I'm aware and I don't care), I
really wanted the stress of not knowing where I was going to live to be gone.
So Thursday came and went. Nothing opened up. They said that
any notices they would get should be in by Friday, but possibly Monday at the absolute
latest. So my chances were dwindling and the time crunch panic was growing. I
had been praying about it for weeks, I had other people praying about it, but I
still thought that God was forgetting about me, that he wasn't helping me, that
he was making things difficult for me. It may sound silly because I realize
other people have much more significant, life-altering issues than this. I know my life wasn't in danger; nothing permanently damaging was going to happen to me. I know that the worst case scenario
wasn't that bad. I know all that. But it didn't make it any less stressful or
anxiety-inducing at the time. I can honestly say that by Thursday night I was
in full-blown panic mode. For whatever reason, I was really going crazy about
this. I was panicking, I was crying, I was super negative about everything. I
couldn't see any positives, any silver lining, all I could see was what I
didn't want to happen. All I could see was the worst case scenarios I'd created in my head (some of which were wildly impossible but also fairly entertaining).
But in the midst of my panic stricken freak out, God used
someone else to remind me of his truth. In 1 Samuel 23 Saul is in the middle of
his attempts to hunt down and kill David. David had been running for a while at
this point. He had been running and hiding and fighting and running some more.
He was scared and exhausted and unsure of his future, unsure of what God was
doing. At this turbulent, uncertain time God sent Jonathan to him. Jonathan was
his best friend, his hetero-lifemate, if you will, and in 1 Samuel 23:16 it
says that Jonathan went to David and "helped him find strength in
God."
As we all know, David is mentioned more than once as a man
after God's own heart. He's one of the most turned-to biblical characters when
it comes to looking at what a true relationship with God should be. David knew God. Well. He loved him. But during
this time of his life, David needed help. He needed someone else to point him
in the right direction, to re-focus him, to remind him of God's truth and love
and faithfulness. He needed Jonathan to help him find strength in God. And in
my (much less traumatic, much more first world problem-y) situation, God did
the same.
As I complained and cried and panicked, my friend kept
reminding me that it was ok. That it was going to be ok. That God wasn't
forgetting about me, that he wasn't ignoring me, that he wasn't punishing me
for some made up sin I'd committed a month ago (yes sometimes that's how my
mind works. And you wonder why I have anxiety). He reminded me that God loved me
more than I could fathom, that his timing and his plans are perfect, even when
we don't understand them. He told me it was ok that I was scared and that I
didn't necessarily like God's timing, but that I needed to try to accept it and
trust that he knows what he's doing. He helped me realize I needed to give up
my false sense of control and let God work, whatever that meant for my life. Just
like Jonathan, he helped me find strength in God when I needed it most.
Thanks to the Jonathan-esque encouragement of my friend, I
calmed down. I thought about it and prayed about it and realized that whatever
God did would be ok. I gave control over to him. But I also decided I would start praying very specifically
about what I wanted to happen. Instead of just praying for "all the
apartment stuff to work out" I prayed for the specific type of apartment I
wanted to become available before Monday. I prayed that Thursday night and all
day Friday. Friday morning I sent out a prayer request to all of my supporters
asking that they pray for the situation, too.
At 4:45 pm on Friday afternoon I got a phone call telling me
the exact apartment I wanted had opened up.
Less than 24 hours after my friend re-focused me, less than
24 hours after I started praying specifically, and less than 24 hours after I
gave control over to God, I got an apartment.
God is so good. And I don't mean that he's good because I
got what I wanted. That's really awesome and I'm so thankful for his kindness
and his timing and his direct answer to what I asked. Those are all reasons to
say he's good, sure. But that's not all it is. He's good because he makes us
uncomfortable. He makes us wait. He
makes us remember how awesome he is. God has done SO many things in my life
over the past 6 months. Amazing, difficult, messy, indescribably wonderful
things. He taught me so much. He showed me so much. He changed my heart and my
focus and my motivation. He transformed me. But when push came to shove and
stuff got difficult, I ran as fast as I could to throw my earrings into the
livestock mold with everyone else. I lost faith, I lost hope, I forgot who God
was, I forgot what I'd learned. I had a pretty severe case of religious
amnesia.
But God doesn't let me stay that way. He loves me too much
to allow me to forget what he's done, to let me move too far away from him.
If I had gotten the apartment I wanted right away, if I hadn't had to pay half
my savings over to the IRS, if I had gotten everything I wanted exactly when I
wanted it, then I wouldn't have recognized God's hand in it. I might've thanked
him for letting it be so easy, but I wouldn't have cried out to him, I wouldn't
have had the chance to be strengthened by a friend, I wouldn't have realized
how awesome he is, how perfect his timing is, how incredibly mind-blowing it is
when he directly and powerfully answers my prayers. God loves me enough to
challenge me. He stretches us to remind us that he's good, that he's there,
that he loves us and he's faithful.
Paul David Tripp calls it "uncomfortable grace."
And that's exactly what it is. God's blessings and grace aren't just poured out
in ways we like. Yes, God giving you a new job or healing a friend or working a
tough situation out, those are all blessings. But so is being stretched, being
broken, going through hard circumstances and difficult situations and uncertainties. Those are
all blessings. That's God's grace, too. He loves us too much to let us stay where
we are, to let us be complacent and unchallenged and slip farther away from
him without realizing it. He loves us enough to make us uncomfortable. And while I hate it and fight against it and whine about it while it's happening, there is nothing sweeter than looking back on a situation and seeing exactly how God was moving in it, how he worked through it, what he taught you. God's here. He's always here. Always working. Always moving. Always changing us and maturing us and growing us. And I'm learning to be very thankful for that awful, painful, uncomfortable grace that God loves me enough to show me. I'm also very thankful I don't have to live out "Fancy"...
