It was past midnight, maybe three AM when I found myself face down on our dingy comforter silently sobbing these words:
God I give this to you, I give it to you, I give it to you.
I sat up. I got honest.
God I don’t give this you, not today. I fully acknowledge that it IS IN FACT yours right now but my fingers won’t unclench. They will not release. Today I cannot let this drop into your hands where I fully understand that it already rests.
Today I am grasping, today I lack the faith, today I am fully of reasons not to trust you but God… will you help me?
Could you love me, even now when my fear and faithlessness gather into piles of reasons why you shouldn’t?
God I am through pretending that I leave my endeavors, my people, my life, my plans in your hands because I think we both see me scrambling for control, for the reigns, for the false hope that I was ever in charge in the first place.
I wonder if the only way to get somewhere in all of this is to sit up straight, walk out of bed, turn on the lamp and confess to you plainly that I do not trust you. That I do not give this to you… but that I want to, deeply, with a desperation kin a deep, desert thirst.
Continue to romance me? To pry my fingers open one by one saying “dear one, dear one… I got this. I got it love, please let go, drop it into the hands that have never stopped holding it. I know you are wounded, I know that you have questions and reasons why the only person who can make things okay is you but I promised you freedom and I will never stop calling you thusly.
He cannot promise he that everything will be okay
That there will not be additional pain, even loss.
That promise does not exist friends.
So tonight I sit up in the midnight hour and confess honestly the heart space in which I find myself.
God I do not trust with you my children and I do not trust you with my husband.
I do not trust you with our provision and I do not trust that you go before.
But God? I want to.
Can you spare a bit more patience? Go with me a while longer while I point out all the ways in which you have let my prayers fall through the cracks or be answered with the worst possible ends?
Will you forgive me my faithlessness a bit longer while I come to terms with it and beg a bit more forgiveness? A bit more love, a bit more time on our journey back to trust.
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