In the last two years, I’ve found a lot of reasons to complain to God. And I’ve done so quite explicitly.
Sometimes when He worked to transform me to look more like Him. It was painful.
Sometimes when He challenged me to do things I didn’t want to do. It was unfair.
Sometimes when He drove me into complete isolation so I only had Him. It was cruel.
Sometimes when He gave me only half a freaking millimeter to work with when I was at the end of my rope. Are you kidding me?
Sometimes I yelled at Him and cursed at Him and ignored Him.
But every time… He showed me grace and mercy and kindness that I didn’t deserve.
In the last two years, He’s given me new passions and new desires. Never taking away the old ones. But giving me the capacity for more. He’s made promises. And then fulfilled them. He’s invited me to be a part of something much bigger than myself. He’s given me the freedom to walk away from it, assuring me He’ll still love me. But also assuring me I’d be missing out on His best. He’s surprised me by changing the plans, letting me choose to step into what I wanted to do. He’s replaced my rebellious heart with an obedient one. He’s unveiled secrets meant solely for me when I read His Word. He’s challenged me to love harder, think harder, work harder. But be softer. He’s astounded me with the Gospel. He’s awarded me financial grants I never even asked for and introduced me to people I never would have met without those painful, unfair, cruel circumstances. He’s driven me into isolation only to provide incredible companionship. He’s shown me He is more mysterious, more loving, more shocking, more giving, more unpredictable, more holy, more powerful… Just more. He is someone I can’t stand to go without knowing. And someone I can’t believe I actually get to know.
It’s been a good two years.