Here's
a picture of a dead bird that's hanging in my carport. I first saw it when I
left for work two mornings ago while the bird was alive and struggling. (I've
blogged previously about dead birds in my carport.) Instead of trying to free the bird myself, which I would have
loved to do but which I'm not equipped to do, I called my apartment complex
because it's their responsibility to keep up their grounds. Unfortunately, they
haven't removed the carcass yet from the carport.
Why
do birds get stuck in my carport? Why do doomed little eggs hatch in the middle
of the summer? And why the heck has my apartment complex ignored the bird's
carcass? In my most recent blog post, I wrote about stuff that's obvious. In
today's post, I'll write about stuff that's not-so-obvious.
"We
are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair;
persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed." (2
Corinthians 4:8-9)
"When
you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the
rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will
not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze." (Isaiah 43:2)
I
won't go into details on this public forum, yet I won't sugarcoat it. I went
through hell this summer, and I very sincerely mean "hell," but God
brought me through it. I wrestled with some things that I had wrestled with in
the past, I wrestled with some things that I didn't know I needed to wrestle with,
and I just plain wrestled. And God won. And because of Jesus, I won, too
(Romans 8:37). While I was struggling, God taught me how to be perplexed. He
reinforced for me that some things need to remain a mystery. He taught me one
of the sweetest phrases in the entire English language: I don't know.
I'm not saying that God doesn't know. God knows everything. He is all-knowing,
period. But my heart -- that extremely sensitive, swoony thing inside me that I
need to guard with all diligence (Proverbs 4:23-27) and that has a bad habit of
condemning me (1 John 3:20) -- my exhaustedly war-ravaged heart doesn't know
everything. But it's been learning how to let go. Perplexedly admitting I don't know helps my heart let go of
what I can't control, master, or understand.
On
the other hand, I'm not saying that it's wrong to try to understand things or
wrestle or even to ask why. I'm
reminded from time to time that asking God why
isn't always a good idea because He's perfect, He's in control, and He knows
what He's doing. But I'm also reminded that I'm God's child (John 1:12-13). If
you've ever been around children who feel secure enough to ask you questions,
they'll ask you why. I don't think
children constantly ask why because
they're trying to be rude or offend anybody. They just simply want to know why because they're still trying to
figure out how the world works. I also think letting a child trust you enough
to answer his or her incessant stream of why
questions is something that can delight your heart.
Speaking
of delightful, here's a photo of a live animal. This is my cat Choochie hanging
out in my sock drawer. (She's closing her adorable little eyes because of the
camera flash.) Recently, I've been cleaning out my apartment and throwing away
old things that I don't need or want anymore. Because I temporarily removed the
top drawer from one of my bureaus so that I could comb through the drawer more
effectively -- and I think I had also cleaned out part of my sock drawer at
this point -- Choochie was able to climb inside and make herself at home. (My
cat Macho tried to hang out there, too, but he's too big to fit comfortably
inside the drawer.)
There's
something exhilarating about separating myself from something that's been
cluttering my life for so long. After I lugged old, holey socks, etc., out to
the Dumpster, I didn't even miss them.
Previously, I've blogged
about Proverbs 13:12, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick." Sometimes
storing old, worn-out desires or dreams inside my heart (especially if they're
attached to people who don't want to be in my life in a healthy way) can
contribute to spiritual-heart infection. And sometimes cluttering my heart with
pain just doesn't leave enough room for awesome stuff to live in there -- like godly
dreams, desires, revelations, etc.
I'm not saying that God doesn't want some things to remain in our hearts for years on end. And I'm
not saying that it's bad to grieve or to allow your heart to feel pain. In
fact, I'm saying quite the contrary, and it would actually be quite another
blog topic altogether -- grieving and feeling pain is necessary for
spiritual-heart health. Pretending that something doesn't hurt can be damaging
at so many levels. Previously,
I've also blogged about pouring out your heart to God (Psalm 62:8) -- this is a
healthy way for me to maintain my heart.
"Delight
yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart." (Psalm
37:4)
I
would like to give you an example. I'm not a linear thinker -- I'm a vague
thinker -- so the informal, unofficial process I'm about to describe isn't
exact, and I think sometimes it happens lightning-fast and other times
molasses-slow. One way to read Psalm 37:4 is that it lists a formula, right? If
I delight myself in the Lord -- if I take delight in Him and let Him make me
happy -- then He'll give me my heart's desires, right? I like God a really huge
heck of a lot. He makes me extremely happy. So, one huge desire of my heart is
to be married to a gorgeous man and have gorgeous babies. I've also previously blogged about my
singlehood almost ad nauseam. However, one very huge roadblock to this very
huge dream of my heart is, well, I haven't had a date in 18 years. Yes, the
last time I was romantically involved with anybody was half my lifetime ago. (No,
I respectfully refuse to shop for a husband online.) I've tried pretty much everything I can
think of -- from throwing myself at guys to waiting for them to pursue me, from
wearing makeup and fancy clothes to skipping the makeup and wearing sweats,
from liking only certain types of guys to liking pretty much any Christian bachelor
who crosses my path -- and still I got nothin'.
Why?
I
don't know.
If
I hurt about my lack of husband, I pour out my heart and cry to my God who is
my Shepherd, with whom I lack nothing (Psalm 23:1). If I'm angry about my lack
of husband, I pour out my heart and maybe yell at my God who is my safe Refuge.
If I'm boy-crazy because I have a lack of husband, I find a comfortable spot
where I can pour out my heart and talk face-to-face with God who is my Best
Friend and be, like, all boy-crazy-swoony with Him.
Then
at some point, I'm reminded that I should probably treat my lack of husband as
a mystery -- because if it's a formula, then I've somehow failed royally at following
it. But if God reminds me that I'm perplexed but not in despair, then I can
empty out the spiritual-mucus of my spiritual-heart, avoid infection, move on,
let go, and enjoy what God has for me right now. In this way, if I aim for
Psalm 37:4, I get to do Psalm 37:3, too. Bonus! Now if my heart isn't obsessing
over my lack of gorgeous husband and lack of gorgeous babies, my heart has more
room to sincerely rejoice with people who are celebrating a new spouse or a new
child. I'm not ignoring my pain -- I'm just pouring out, being perplexed, and
letting go. And I don't think there's anything wrong with repeating that
process multiple times if necessary. (I'm discovering that I can be a pretty
swoony chick.) And singlehood is just one example, of course, of being
perplexed.
How
can I make room for an adorable little feline to snuggle in my sock drawer if
it's too full of old socks that need to be lugged out to the Dumpster?
Why
do terrible things happen to nice people while awesome things happen to total
jerks?
I
don't know.
Why
do innocent creatures that live near nice trees end up nesting in and getting
trapped in rickety carports that are maintained by apathetic apartment
complexes?
I
don't know.
Why
does God sometimes ask me to do extremely hard things that can result in
extreme pain?
I
don't know.
Why
does pain happen, why does injustice linger, and why does evil lurk in a world
that God created and that is inhabited by people who He loves so much -- and
why did He sacrifice His Son to redeem the people who inhabit this world, even
though they rejected Him, hurt Him, and spat in His face while He did it? And
why did He go through with it in the first place if He knew that so freakin'
many people wouldn't want anything to do with Him?
I don't know. But I do know the One who knows.
And I know that He loves me, wants me, and takes extremely good care of me. And
I don't think He minds me being, like, all swoony over Him.
