Have you ever felt fractured – like the two parts of yourself are at odds, different people inhabiting the same body? Torn between to extremes that somehow manage to exist within the same frame.
As of late, that’s how I’ve felt about God more often that I care to admit. After so many plans get changed, so many hopes fall short, my heart is so angry, so confused, so tired. It doesn’t feel like God’s ignoring me – it feels like He’s purposely thwarting me. I, with the Israelites cry, “Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you have brought us out here to die?” I want to scream and stomp my feet, to yell at my Maker, “Leave me ALONE! Go bother someone else! Stop doing this to me!”
But in the same breath, I feel the other part of myself cry. Not a strong, angry cry. But the weak, pathetic cry of a sick baby. Helpless, frightened. “My soul thirsts for God, the living God.” I ache for him. I trail behind him, desperate to even touch the hem of his robe.
These two feelings exist inside of me. One part, that wishes so strongly to do life on my own. Wishes I could walk away from the hard things Jesus calls me to, to take my life back and do what I want, how i want it. And the other part, that knows that I can’t go another step without His presence, so desperate for any piece of Him.
If I could have walked away from Jesus, God knows I would have already done it. But by His blood I have been bought, bound and sealed. So here I am, falling between two extremes. I want to leave, and I beg to stay.
“Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life…” (John 6:68, ESV)