If you could have crawled inside my mind yesterday, you would not have identified me as a Jesus girl.
Yes, my feet hit the floor, I prepared for my Bible study, led a sweet group of women, and went about my day. And I believed every word that came out of my mouth during the hour we gathered together and studied God's Word. 1) Enjoying God's presence despite our circumstances is legit and expected, 2) Unbelief is an obvious obstacle to believing God (not believing in God), and 3) Pride is an absolute obstacle to glorifying God. (Beth Moore, Breaking Free). Yep, yep, yep. Got it.
Then, I drove away and unraveled.
Not visible to anyone else, of course. Typically, my emotional melt-downs occur internally. I'm not a crier unless I'm angry or devastatingly heartbroken. I envy my friends who cry easily. Why? Much like the water that builds up behind a dam during a storm, a slow release can cause damage (don't we know it), but nothing like the devastation in the wake of the dam exploding because of intense pressure (or in my case, imploding). In other words, tears are very good. Healing, even.
Yet, I can't force myself to cry. After the death of my parents, my tear valve malfunctioned. It's been under repair ever since. I have my moments, but they aren't near as many as I'd like.
No, my grief takes on another form. It's very hard to describe, but a rebellious spirit is close. Not on the outside, but internally. It's a very intense push and pull between being fearfully and wonderfully made, yet broken.
Why? What caused the unraveling yesterday?
Fatigue. Weariness. The state of the world. The looming hurricane and the panic surrounding it. The missing of my brother. The missing of Diana. The missing of my parents. My husband's persistent cough. Traffic on I-75. The depletion of gas, bread, and other necessities. Irma hijacking my calendar.
After a very long day, where my thoughts and actions had run rampant, a conversation ensued.
I am so very little, and God, You are so very big. But, I'm tired of praying, tired of reading Scriptures, tired of talking.
And I'm angry and I'm sad.
Ding, ding, ding! (I do think God says that to me, sometimes.)
Amanda, I'm the Creator of the hurricane that strikes fear into the hearts of so many. I hold the ocean, the winds, the sky, the moon, the sun, the animals, the people, YOU in the palm of my hand.
Do you believe I love you? Head hanging low. Yes.
Do you believe since you are called according to my purpose, all things work together for good? Sigh. Yes.
Even if your brother died? My bottom lip almost bleeds as I grit out, Yes.
Even if you lost your parents and the substitute mother I gifted you with? Eyes close. Yes.
Even if you're mother-in-love was diagnosed with breast cancer? Lips suck in. Yes.
Even if the hurricane hits and the frogs invade? I laugh through emotion. Yes.
He reminds me:
Forgive me, Lord.
I did, I do.
Amanda Williams is a forty-year old wife and mother of two who can still swing her pony tail and display just a tad of sass. She is also a Jesus loving girl who realizes she is nothing without the One who saved her. Amanda has two degrees specializing in serving students with special needs and is currently working in the field of Leadership Development. She is a Christian author, speaker, blogger, and publisher who loves serving beside her husband at her local place of worship, First Baptist Church of Ocala.