Tonight I had dinner with some dear friends. I've known Cindi for as long as I can remember, and met her husband Keith when we were in college (which was more years ago now than I care to admit). We had a really good time together ... laughing and remembering about old times and sharing old stories. It's always good to be with friends like Cindi and Keith, and yet when we parted ways my heart ached worse than it did before our supper.
I felt that aching so much more deeply than I do on just ordinary days because I remember ... I remember what it is like to have someone finish my sentences. I remember tender looks and gentle teasing. I remember small touches to a hand or shoulder. I remember having someone there to help me remember. So now, faced again with what I've lost, I come home to feel the emptiness and the aloneness even more.
As I drove home, I thought about my situation, and before I knew it I found myself wondering what kind of God lets prayers like mine go unanswered. After all, wasn't it God's idea for marriage to last a lifetime? Isn't God against infidelity? Weren't my prayers biblical? I wasn't asking for anything that God didn't already tell us was the best way for us to live.
I can't tell you the number of times I knelt by my bed or just laid out on my bed, weeping to God to work it all out. I must have cried buckets of tears. Over and over, I told God to do whatever it took to save my marriage. And nothing changed ... in fact, it steadily got worse, and less than 6 months after it all began the entire thing was over. I was left standing in a pile of rubble, wondering what was left of the life I was knew. Nearly a year later, I'm still sorting through it all, without an end in sight.
On any given day, I'll honestly tell just about anyone how angry I am with Matt, but that I'm working hard at forgiving him for what he has done to me and to our children because I don't want bitterness to take over my life. All of that's very true.
And yet, if I am really honest, then I have to admit that I'm angry with God, too. I'm hurt that He didn't answer my prayers the way I wanted Him to. I wanted Him to wave a magic wand and grant my every wish ... making my life okay again. And when things didn't work out my way, I got hurt and mad. Quite often, I feel like I'm pouting with God. It's as though I'm some petulant child, wanting Him to see how miserable I am, hoping He will change his mind and come rescue me from this awful situation. In the middle of my pouting, there comes that haunting question ... one so straight from the pit of hell that it still smells like smoke ... "What kind of God would do this to you? Hasn't God been unfaithful to you too?"
But maybe the better question is this: "What kind of follower of Christ would be so unfaithful to God?"
Literally from day one of this terrible time, God has shown His faithfulness to me. I learned of what Matt had done during the wee hours of the night. I stayed in bed most of the next day ... so grieved that I couldn't shower or eat or function. I remember how wet my pillow was from the silent tears that fell, wracking my body with sobs.
I thought about telling someone ... just asking them to pray for us. But I felt like I couldn't share this awful thing with another soul on this planet because I was so mortified by what was happening. I must have told my parents ... I guess I figured they needed to know why I was spending all of my time lying on my bed, instead of tending to my children or helping with housework. And yet, for several days, they were the only ones who knew. I couldn't bring myself to admit my situation to others, even within the Christian community, for fear that others would judge me based on what was happening within my marriage. (Now I wonder how many times others have shouldered awful burdens alone because they didn't want me to judge them.)
That first day just happened to be a Wednesday, and that evening my father brought home the weekly prayer list from church. As he entered the house, he quietly handed that paper to me. There printed at the very top of the page so that it couldn't be missed read these words:
Pray for this week's church family: Mr. and Mrs. Matt Thompson. How like God for our names to come up in the alphabetical rotation the very week ... no, the very day ... that we needed prayers the most! God was there, asking for prayers on our behalf when I didn't have the courage or strength to ask for them myself! It still gives me chills to think about it.
I could tell you of all the big and little things that God has done for me and the kids these past 13 months. He had been right in the middle of this awful mess ... calming the storm in me day after day after day. Just as he walked through the fire with Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, so he's walked through the fire with me. He's been consistently faithful. I have not. He's never turned his back to me. I've taken that 180 degree turn many times over. He's never forsaken me or left me. He's been there all along ... ever faithful; ever merciful; ever giving; ever loving.
Even without all the blessings bestowed upon me, this question would still remain ... Who am I to question the authority of
El Shadday, God Almighty? Who am I to challenge
Adonay, Lord and Master, the King of Kings? I must bend my knee to the higher ways of
El Roi, God who sees me, knowing that even in my sorrow
Yahweh Rophe is my God who heals.
What kind of God is so tenderly faithful to one so unfaithful as me?
El Olam, the everlasting and eternal God. He is
Yahweh Shammah, the Lord who is there. He tells me that He will care for me as
Abba, my Father and
Ish, my husband ... He is
Yahweh Yireh, the Lord who provides.
He is my God ... and He alone meets my every need.
Bless His Holy Name!
