City dump

Previously, I've blogged about the concept of "layers" in healing, especially since it seems to be quite common to refer to healing, issues, etc., happening in "layers" like in an onion or rooms in a house or a burn wound or just in general. The onion analogy is a nice, simple picture that can explain inner emotional healing and/or simply growth in Christ, but, well... Lately, a different analogy has been rolling around in my brain. When I accepted Jesus' finished work for me, when He bought me and He became my Lord, in my case, He didn't necessarily buy an onion. It's as if He bought a city dump. I don't mean that I'm a pile of garbage. I mean that in the same way that a city dump would have layers of garbage that would have been piled on for years, I have layers of issues. Perhaps some of the top layers have been smoothed out or emptied out over time, but perhaps also new layers have formed as I've allowed new garbage to be hauled in, or perhaps one really huge issue happens to take up several layers at once.

Please imagine with me, reader, that perhaps a city dump would have garbage that's neatly tied up in plastic bags in one layer, garbage that's carelessly strewn in another section of the layer, leftover construction lumber in a lower layer, a cesspool flowing somewhere at the very bottom, and maybe in a corner of the dump, someone successfully discarded an entire condemned building which is so huge that its top stories are poking at the top of the dump heap but its bottom stories are still buried. Perhaps in some places of the dump, the toxic chemicals have caused fires to flare up. Everywhere, scavenger animals fly over, land on, and/or crawl inside the dump to hunt, feed, and/or nest. And yet, the Owner of the city dump has enlisted the help of The Helper, who has been working powerfully and tirelessly to empty out the piles and layers of garbage. The Owner has good plans for this dump, and He does not mean to keep it a dump forever. He wants to empty it out and build something brand-new on top of it. Construction is already in progress in some of the cleaned-out areas of the city dump, but the Owner dreams of cleaning out the garbage and rebuilding the city.

So, if you'd like to indulge me, reader, here's a fictionalized (yet it's also a true story) scene in my mind that will take place between the new Owner of the city dump and the previous owner who severely opposes the cleanup. (I'm also going to get very personal, in a rated-PG-13 kind of way.)

ACCUSER: (holding his nose) God! Would You smell that garbage? She smells like [expletive deleted]!

FATHER: She isn't garbage. She's fertile soil, and I get to plant whatever I want in her.

JESUS: (smiling) She smells like Me. And what are you doing back here, anyway, loser?

ACCUSER: I am not a loser! I am triumphant in battle!

JESUS: Nope. Just because you steal, kill, and destroy things doesn't make you triumphant.

FATHER: (points to Jesus) He's the Triumphant Warrior, you little pipsqueak loser. So, you've come to accuse My little girl again. She won't be the first one of My precious ones that you've sifted like wheat. Come on, speak up.

ACCUSER: (points at the city dump) God! Would You look at it! (extremely sarcastic tone) Oh, You made such a good deal when You bought her. Great job. Great choice. Great return on Your investment.

JESUS: (crosses His arms triumphantly) Thank you. I know how much she's worth.

ACCUSER: But she smells like [expletive deleted]! And what the [expletive deleted] was all that baloney about her getting cleaned up or healed up or made new? All I see is the same garbage stuck in the same dump! What has this profited You? How powerful are You that You haven't hauled all this away yet? Is all this just to prove that she will never win because YOU have never won?

FATHER: (calmly shakes His head) Nope. I'm proving that one man's trash is another Man's treasure.

JESUS: (to the accuser) Yeah. Check that out, loser.

(Jesus motions with His beautiful head to one section of the dump where the Helper has allowed visitors and Dumpster-divers to go shopping for free. He helps them select choice items and shows them how they can clean up the items and reuse them later. The treasure-hunters joyfully walk away with their to-be-recycled items and are thankful that the city dump is available to them. They have also bonded with the Helper, who has amazed them with His neverending wisdom, skill, and kindness.)

FATHER: I'm into emergency-rush jobs, and I'm into quantity, but I'm also into quality.

ACCUSER: What quality?? The other city dumps that I've owned did NOT take this long to get cleaned out. You purchased a defective dump!

JESUS: (shakes His head and snickers cheerily) Here We go again.

FATHER: This particular city dump is a very deep site. I'm teaching her to be comfortable with her depth.

ACCUSER: (scoffs so hard that he sprays slime into the air) Teach?? What good will it do You to try to teach her anything? Haven't You already tried to teach her a dozen lessons that she's already forgotten?

FATHER: Like what? How to avoid you? She's already learned those lessons well, but you keep coming back. She already knows that, too.

JESUS: (to His Father) Maybe the loser is talking about all those Lemonchicky stories that she wrote.

ACCUSER: (flustered) How dare You bring that up again! I did NOT appreciate how she portrayed me in those [expletive deleted] little stories!

JESUS: (to the accuser) U-S-U-K.

ACCUSER: And she wasted her time writing them! Nobody read those stories!

FATHER: No, but I believe everybody who read those stories wouldn't appreciate being called "nobody."

JESUS: She didn't write them for the sake of skillfully writing stories --

FATHER: Although We used them to help her story-writing skills--

JESUS: That was for her own sanity.

FATHER: She's known for about half her lifetime that she was going to be My writer.

ACCUSER: How is she Your writer?? Nobody is going to even read this blog entry!

FATHER: Again, your "nobody" is either My "somebody" or someone who I've been longing to make into My "somebody."

JESUS: (to the accuser) Dad has awesome plans for everybody and everything He makes.

ACCUSER: (hesitates before speaking, as if he is searching for the best words for this situation) This particular city dump has already failed You numerous times. What makes You so sure she won't fail You again?

FATHER: (knits His beautiful brows) Did she ever fail Me?

JESUS: (scratches His beautiful head) Hmm. Doesn't ring a bell...

HOLY SPIRIT: Well, right now We're hanging out in the West section of the dump. I tossed the items in question into the East section before they disappeared forever.

JESUS: Ah. Thanks, Helper!

ACCUSER: (erupts in frustrated desperation) SHE USED TO SPIRITUALLY ABUSE PEOPLE! She manipulated people into following You, and she made people think they were sinning when they really weren't!!

(The Father and Jesus look at each other blankly. Jesus scratches His beautiful head again.)

HOLY SPIRIT: East section!

FATHER: Ah! Thank You again, Helper!

JESUS: (to the accuser) Loser, earlier you mentioned that My precious city wasted her time writing stories. I gotta say, right now YOU'RE the one who's wasting time telling stories, loser.

ACCUSER: (growling) She has disobeyed one of Your commandments. She must burn for this.

JESUS: (crosses His arms and speaks quietly) Really? Which one?

ACCUSER: (continues growling) She has failed to honor her--

FATHER: (interrupts) No. Stop.

JESUS: (uncrosses His beautiful arms and addresses the accuser) It is written: "As snow in summer and rain in harvest, so honor is not fitting for a fool."

FATHER: It is also written that when the people you speak of were to ever forsake her, then I would take care of her.

JESUS: And they did.

FATHER: And I am.

JESUS: She's Ours, and you can't ever have her back. You lose, loser.

ACCUSER: Baloney! She is dishonoring these people simply by writing this blog entry!

JESUS: What? You got something against treasure-hunting?

ACCUSER: She is an ungrateful little brat who broke up an entire family!

FATHER: (whispers) She's My delight, and she did nothing of the sort, and she's Mine now, and You can't ever have her back.

JESUS: (to the accuser) How is she dishonoring them? Is she spelling out their names here for the entire world to read? Did she call up all the other members of her family and explain in detail why she did what she did? Did she contact the organization that employs them and tell them that they made such terrible mistakes in their past that they're now unqualified to train people to work for Me?

FATHER: (to the accuser) No, of course she didn't do any of that. She's actually hoping that if these people you accuse her of dishonoring are reading this, that they will realize that what they did and what they allowed to happen was NOT good and that they will learn from their mistakes and move on.

ACCUSER: What could possibly have happened that could justify her doing what she did? How could You possibly have told her that she needed to separate herself from the very ones who raised her, nurtured her, protected her?

FATHER: (whispers) That's just it. They didn't protect her.

JESUS: (growls in a beautiful Shepherdly Mama-Bear kind of way) And it happened in My house.

ACCUSER: (scoffs and laughs) Oh, THAT! There wasn't anything wrong with THAT! What was the big deal with THAT?

JESUS: (through clenched teeth) The big deal, loser, was that THAT happened in MY house. It's supposed to be a house of prayer -- not a den where unspeakable, shameful, lecherous things happen.

ACCUSER: Pffft! What was the shame in THAT? They didn't even have sex. All he did was kiss her.

FATHER: Against her will.

ACCUSER: (quietly) You know she wanted it.

JESUS: (still through clenched teeth) Negatory.

ACCUSER: OK, so THAT happened--

JESUS: Repeatedly. In My house.

ACCUSER: But then the old guy died. (points at the Father) And I'm guessing that You smote him.

FATHER: It's possible.

ACCUSER: So, what's the big deal? No harm done. He's dead, and she's still a virgin.

FATHER: (quietly) You don't own her anymore, so her body is none of your business.

JESUS: The harm, loser, was that it happened, and that the guy wasn't stopped by people who are supposed to protect My sheep... and that the abuse spread to other women--

FATHER: And that the same thing started again two years later--

JESUS: With another man. (bear-growls) In My house.

FATHER: (cracks knuckles) With more women.

ACCUSER: (laughs) God! Why are You so serious about purity?! Nobody had sex in Your house!

FATHER: Nobody was safe.

ACCUSER: It wasn't an official rape!

JESUS: Says you.

ACCUSER: There was no official sex, so there was no official adultery!

JESUS: (whisper-growls) Says you.

ACCUSER: Look, she is not an adulteress!

FATHER: (quietly) No, not anymore.

JESUS: No thanks to you, loser.

(The accuser begins to fume. Finally, he erupts again.)

ACCUSER: She would have been so much better off if she would have followed MY plan for her life!! I would have spared her so much pain!! She would have felt so much better! I would have given her so much comfort, so much respect, so much influence!!

JESUS: (stands firmly and speaks firmly) Don't bring this up again, loser.

FATHER: (holds up His beautiful hands in protest to the accuser) I agreed to listen to you, but you're about to go too far.

ACCUSER: (points at the city dump behind him) God! Oh, You try to clean her out and pretty her up, but I know what used to fester inside there.

FATHER: (crosses His beautiful arms) Used to, yes. And now it's gone.

ACCUSER: IT WILL ALWAYS BE THERE, AND IT WILL NEVER GO AWAY, BECAUSE IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN HER DESTINY! God! I'm the one who chose it for her!

JESUS: (follows His Father's lead and crosses His beautiful arms) It could have been her destiny, yes. But now it's gone.

ACCUSER: I know PERFECTLY WELL the path that she was headed on! She was destined to rot in prison for cooking up drugs for her morbidly obese girlfriend!!

FATHER: (shakes His beautiful head) Your accusation is ridiculous.

JESUS: (shakes His beautiful head) Your accusation is absurd.

ACCUSER: Oh, is it? God! It's so obviously right in front of Your face! Her ancestors dumped all the ingredients I needed to fashion this destiny right there, conveniently buried in the cesspool!

FATHER: Yes, and I've already drained out those particular ingredients.

JESUS: And We've been recycling them for Our purposes.

ACCUSER: (impatiently jumps up and down like a child who's throwing a temper tantrum) Baloney!! Everything I need for my plan is right there! All I have to do is push all the right buttons, and I'll get exactly what I want!!

FATHER: (takes a deep breath before replying) Let's examine what you ridiculously, absurdly accused My little girl of earlier -- 1) going to prison, 2) cooking up drugs, and 3) having a morbidly obese girlfriend.

JESUS: For starters, she's never had a girlfriend.

ACCUSER: See?? She can't attract a male OR a female!! She's a complete loser!!

JESUS: No, now you're confusing her with yourself, loser.

FATHER: And you're implying that she would be morbidly obese herself.

ACCUSER: She has an addictive personality!! She is destined for addiction!!

FATHER: Actually, she's obsessed with Me, but we can address that again later.

ACCUSER: Prison!! She could have gone to prison!! All PKs turn out to be criminals!!

JESUS: Says you, loser.

FATHER: (grins and has a faraway look) Actually, she does have strong infiltration skills that I've redeemed.

JESUS: (grins and nods) Hmm. Like in the Lemonchicky stories. Ain't nothin' criminal about infiltrating anyone who will welcome You in. (to the accuser) L-O-S-E-R. She likes men, just like Lemonchicky likes male creatures. So there.

ACCUSER: (more exasperatedly than ever) Drugs!! I've tempted her with drugs before!! The kind that were legal!! The kind that nobody would ever find out about!!

FATHER: Oh, she knows that her Father would have definitely found out about them.

JESUS: Wait. Wasn't there a brief time in her life when she was addicted to... Hmm. Can't seem to remember it now.

HOLY SPIRIT: East section! And it wasn't a drug, it was a supplement that was introduced to her by particular people who she's been accused of dishonoring!

JESUS: Ah. Thanks, Helper! You're awesome!

ACCUSER: Who the [expletive deleted] cares if it was a drug or a supplement!! She's destined for addiction, and that's final!!

JESUS: Says you, loser!

FATHER: (holds up His beautiful hand and closes His beautiful eyes) Wait a moment. I want to savor this.

JESUS: (closes His beautiful eyes) What is it, Dad?

FATHER: (enraptured, He smiles) She's fantasizing about Me.

ACCUSER: (quietly and fearfully) What?

FATHER: (caresses the air with His beautiful whispering) She's imagining what it would be like to crawl up My chest, grab My cheeks with her innocent little hands... and shower My face with kisses.

(Jesus sighs. The accuser clutches his pipsqueak abdomen and tries to not vomit. He composes himself and speaks quietly.)

ACCUSER: God. You are a liar.

JESUS: (opens His eyes) No, We're not.

ACCUSER: If You told the truth, You would know that her hands are NOT innocent. Her destiny with me is already carved out and sealed.

FATHER: (still enraptured, still whispering) No. She promised Me that if anything were to come between the two of us at all, if there were anything in her power to remove it, that she would do her part to remove it.

HOLY SPIRIT: (also enraptured, also whispering) And I'm helping her keep her promise.

FATHER: (still enraptured, still whispering) She also promised Me that she would never leave Me and that she would always love Me... and I would tell you about more promises that she's made to Me, accuser, but...

JESUS: (smirks) We don't cast Our precious pearls before loser swine.

ACCUSER: (erupts) GOD!! IT'S A PERFECT SETUP!! She lives alone!! She can do whatever she wants!! She works in a part of town where her having a girlfriend would be perfectly acceptable!! And she's got all the tools she needs SWIMMING AROUND OUT THERE PERFECTLY READY FOR MY COMMAND!!

FATHER: (opens His eyes) No, I already told you that IT'S GONE.

JESUS: We've already uninstalled that software. If you tried to run it on her hard drive, you'd only get an error message. Loser.

ACCUSER: God! Make up Your mind! Is she a city dump, or is she a computer??

JESUS: (takes a step forward in indignation) What do you know about My city dump? Have you really seen it up close? Go ahead and take a close look!

(Within the city dump is a river that flows steadily and washes every area of the dump. In some places, the river trickles like a tiny faucet; and in other places, the river rages like rapids and tiny waterfalls -- but every piece of garbage, every nook and cranny, is washed. And a closer examination reveals that the river is a river of blood.)

JESUS: Yeah, that's right. That's MY blood, you loser.

FATHER: (points to Jesus and smiles) He wins.

JESUS: Every inch of that city dump is Mine, and I'll clean it out however I want, loser.

(Jesus is about to conclude His brief speech by telling the accuser to go away, but the Father holds up His beautiful hand, closes His beautiful eyes, and smiles. Music emanates from the city dump and wafts over to the place in the West section where the conversation has been occurring.)

FATHER: (enraptured, He whispers) Do You smell that, Son?

JESUS: (closes His beautiful eyes and whispers) Wow. What a beautiful aroma.

ACCUSER: (feels lightheaded but tries to take advantage of what appears to be a weak, vulnerable moment) She -- she's worshiping her own healing!

JESUS: (still enraptured, still whispering) No, loser, she's worshiping ME.

FATHER: (sighs) She's worshiping US.

HOLY SPIRIT: (whispering) I'm enjoying this so much.

(The music becomes louder.)

ACCUSER: (feels faint and coughs) She's... just a garbage heap that will never amount to... (coughs) anything! She smells like... (coughs) Orange seventeen millisecond hyperbole make... (coughs) Icky quartz fixating doozenwillie... (coughs)

JESUS: (eyes still closed, knits His beautiful brow) Loser, are you OK? You don't sound well.

FATHER: (whispers) He's confused now.

HOLY SPIRIT: (whispers) She is offering a powerful sacrifice.

(The music becomes louder and louder still, and the city dump sings words that emanate through the entire grounds with a painful sincerity that causes the blood-river to flow more intensely than ever before. The accuser becomes increasingly confused and uncomfortable until he shrieks, shrivels onto the ground, and crawls away, as if he were a pipsqueak slug that has just been doused with a hefty amount of salt.)

FATHER: (smiling) That's My girl. Like I said before, she isn't garbage. She's fertile soil, and I get to plant whatever I want in her.

JESUS: (smiling) And I'm always going to be the Triumphant Warrior.

HOLY SPIRIT: (whispers) True dat.

FATHER: (opens His beautiful eyes) And so concludes the month of spontaneous blogging.

JESUS: Dad, while I was defending Our little one, should I have also pointed out the treasures from the city dump that have been mined, refined, and polished to a shine? or the piles of dry bones that will soon live again?

FATHER: Nope. The accuser doesn't need to know everything.

HOLY SPIRIT: He's loser swine.

(The Trinity high-fives each other, and the city dump begins to dance with joy.)

Miscellaneous thoughts and revelations

1) Just because you've been rejected and/or abandoned doesn't mean you're a loser. In fact, especially if rejection and/or abandonment has happened to you repeatedly, God could quite possibly use that pain later to motivate you to be extra-accepting to other people or to teach you about how He feels or for some other redeemed reason that's way too awesome for me to think of. (If I sound like a broken record because I've blogged about rejection previously, well, that topic has been kindasorta on my mind during the past few years.) See that photo above of my extremely beloved cats? I ended up with each one of them separately because their previous owners for some reason or other decided that they should have new homes and/or that I should have them. I'm certainly extremely glad that I have them now. But, as I learned sometime after their previous owners gave them up, they were basically replaced later by other cats. In essence, these precious little (and humongous) mounds of extremely beloved fur were rejected.

There's nothing wrong with these cats. In the core of their very beings, they were created by a God who knew exactly what He was doing when He made them, and He knew exactly how much I would love them. Yes, they're pets. Yes, they're animals. Yes, they're technically, legally, property, so they can be owned and humanely discarded. But in the nearly decade and a half that I've known them, I haven't found any reason for them to need to be replaced by other cats. I repeat: There's nothing wrong with them. But for some reason -- perhaps ultimately for their protection from something like declawing or being transported to live with somebody else for 3 months at a time -- they were cast aside. And they flew right into my lap. They're mine now. I want them, and I want to keep them. Jesus keeps reminding me that He gets rejected constantly, too, but of course there's absolutely nothing wrong with Him, either, and there never will be. It just hurts to be cast aside for no particular reason. But Jesus knows how to deal with this kind of pain, and He will help anyone overcome it if they'll let Him. I flew right into His lap, and I intend to stay there.

2) My relationship with God is supposed to be an uneven relationship. Perhaps if you grew up in a house where you were expected to perform constantly and perfectly and with little praise and with constant criticism, or if you grew up in a house where you were treated more like a science experiment that was poked and prodded and dissected than like a person who was enjoyed and cherished and protected, then perhaps your concept of God as a Parent is pretty darn messed up. Perhaps you're used to having a parent relationship that involves you being shamed if you fail to meet the million different requirements that are strapped onto your already broken back. Then when you try to get to know God as a Parent and He tries to tell you that you don't have to do anything to earn or keep His love, it doesn't compute in your brain right away, and it has trouble sticking to your heart. And even the very concept of Him being patient with you while His sounds-too-good-to-be-true-but-it-really-is-true truth computes and sticks... maybe that's what begins to melt and heal the wounds in ways that no therapy appointment ever could.

God has been teaching me that my relationship with Him isn't supposed to be like those healthy friendships that you'll read about in boundary-setting books -- the friendships that are supposed to have healthy, even amounts of giving and taking. Often in a healthy friendship, perhaps one friend will help the other friend, so the helped-friend will find a way to help the helper-friend as an expression of gratitude. Or perhaps one friend will pay for the other friend's dinner, and the dinner-paid-for friend will make a mental note to buy dinner for the I-insist-on-paying-the-check friend the next time they enjoy each other's company. But my relationship with God is supposed to be different than that. There is absolutely no way that I could ever possibly even begin to repay God for the dinners He's provided or for the favors He's given me. He is a neverending fountain of love -- nay, He IS love itself -- but there is absolutely no way that I could ever possibly even begin to love Him in the exact same way that He's loved me. My human brain freezes sometimes when I get in His presence and try to stop thinking about myself and talking about myself and start trying to be a good friend to Him and focus on what He would like to think about and talk about instead of what I would like. But He reminds me that our friendship is supposed to be uneven, because I will never be God. He will always be God. And instead of keeping a running tally of all the stuff I could be doing for Him, He's already commanded me to simply love Him back. He can talk my ear off (and He's welcome to) while we're hanging out and living life together, but when I sit in the solitude of my living room and grab my guitar, sometimes He requests specific songs like a twelve-year-old, and then He quietly listens while I sing to Him. I think He just wants to be loved on. My heart, soul, strength, and mind are so puny compared to His eternally humongous, perfectly perfect heart, soul, strength, and mind, so we could never be evenly matched friends... and yet He's chosen me as a friend, and He simply commands me to love Him with whatever I've got. He can't force me to love Him, even though He requires me to love Him. But because I've gotten a taste of Him and what He's really like, I want to love Him. And I think my loving Him is really all that He wants. I think that's what will keep my truly uneven relationship with Him eternally healthy.

3) Please pardon my French. So, earlier this month when I yet again blogged about spiritual abuse, I mentioned that while I strained to live life in a spiritually abusive environment, I felt like evangelism's bitch. Very recently, I was having a conversation with my heavenly Father, and He showed me that when I felt like evangelism's bitch, I thought He was a pimp. When He first skillfully sliced through my insides with this truth, it was a bit shocking to hear of course, but the more I thought about it, the more this "God is a cruel pimp that you work for now" concept made sense. I thought back to my spiritually abused days and remembered how everything revolved around evangelism in an unhealthy way. (Evangelism in and of itself is, of course, TOTALLY HOLY AND NECESSARY, but the enemy has an uncanny knack for perverting pretty much anything.) I remembered how you couldn't do anything normal like go to a restaurant and order food without feeling pressured to stand on a chair and force a verbal tract down all the innocent bystanders' throats -- otherwise, you were ashamed of the gospel, because today is the day of salvation, and God hasn't given you a spirit of fear. (He didn't give you a spirit of rudeness, either, hotshot.) You didn't have the fear of the Lord. You were shamed. You had to deliver, or else. From what I understand about prostitution, pimps are the same way. After streetwalkers are broken, they better hit the streets, put themselves out there, and reel in as many customers as they can, or else.

But God truly isn't like that. He's not like a pimp who will demand that you walk the streets and make as many sales as possible, or else He'll openly shame you or abuse you Himself. (Just typing that last sentence made me cringe, and now my fingers are shaking.) HE IS NOT A HARD MAN. The parable of the talents in Matthew 25 tends to get told in Sunday School classes with emphasis on the very last part of the story: "You better use your gift, or else God will take it away!" Um, I kinda think having that whole "or else" mentality is a symptom of thinking that God is a "hard man." In the parable, the person who hid their talent in the ground was wicked and lazy. But I think maybe also anyone who genuinely believes that God is a "hard man" might just be scared to death of using their talent because they don't know how, and they don't want Him to whoop them for trying and learning and making a mistake. God isn't a pimp. He's a loving Father who just wants me to love Him. He just wants to hang out with me. He just wants to dote on me in an extremely cooler, extremely more holy way than I dote on my cats. They're just cats. I'm an adopted daughter. Evangelism bitches / streetwalkers probably won't recruit very many newbies by telling them about their boss. Who would want to be employed by a pimp? But maybe an adopted daughter who knows how valuable she is to her Father could have an easier time fishing for newbies who are aching inside to also belong to an unconditionally loving Father.

4) The best-intentioned people can give you the worst advice, and even the best listeners don't always hear you. I think the trick is to just discern which advice is good and which is bad, and sometimes you need to get boundary-creative with people who haven't been hearing you say "no." A professor I had in college would call that "fancy footwork." ("Hey, Tirzah, are you going to take my class next semester?" "My, uh, schedule is quite jam-packed, and would you look at the time? I gotta get to my essay-writing class. See ya!")

5) God cares about your pain way more than you may think He does. Perhaps if you grew up in a house where everything was usually kept impeccably clean and where blemishes were constantly whitewashed and where you got yelled at for puking on the floor once while you were a sick kid who was bedridden with a virus, the concept of Father God being OK with the healthy spewing of your soul-infections might take a while to stick to your brain and heart. I think the psalmists in the Bible vomited some nasty junk all over their songs, but they didn't write any song sequels about God barking at them for being irritable. The whole point of Jesus dying, anyway, was basically that we as a human race had made a mess that was so beyond repair that Jesus had to come and clean up our mess Himself. And He said to let the little children come to Him. Little children puke, poop, and sneeze. They make plenty of messes that need to get cleaned up, but that's the nature of being a little child -- and all children need to have trusted people to take care of their needs. Little children are sensitive. They cry when they get hurt, and they need to be comforted. Little children get into accidents. They skin their knees and elbows, and they need to be raised by non-tyrants who will kiss their boo-boos and make them better. God is the Eternal Non-Tyrant who doesn't expect you to be perfectly whitewashed all the time, because He knows you're just a little child who needs Him.