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Fighting Words

December 13, 2007

The other day G-d and I had words. Well, I had words and amidst all the shouting I’m sure He couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

Life doesn’t always go according to plan and there are moments when it all piles up to the point where only some really strong language and loud voices can express the incomprehensible nature of it all.

Do I think G-d was offended? Is it blasphemous to speak this way to the Almighty? Does this mean I don’t honor and respect Him?

No. No. No.

I know G-d can handle the raw anger thrown His way a whole helluva a lot better than, say, my husband or my children. He never interrupts or brings up that one time in Mexicali when… or how His mother was so much more perfect than I could ever be.

He let me yell until I was done and then He whispered. His whisper rolled across my bitter little heart and slivers and sharp edges, thorns and barriers melted away.

Grace is like that.

No, the circumstances haven’t changed and yes, I’m still pissed because life is just plain unfair.

As I sat in the weak light of a slivered moon and my voice finally died away to nothing, He whispered to me. He told me the darkness is just as much a beginning as the dawn and He told me I needed to hold on tight. He assured me He’s not going anywhere.

I’m fighting mad. And broken and weak. My life didn’t dramatically change. No knight in shining armor came to save the day.

See, apparently those words weren’t about getting my way but about getting real with G-d. Down to the gooey center. Down to the ugly bits.

Was G-d ok with that?

When I was finally quiet, He showed me the stars.

I think we’ll be ok.

Uncategorized

Fighting Words

The other day G-d and I had words. Well, I had words and amidst all the shouting I’m sure He couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

Life doesn’t always go according to plan and there are moments when it all piles up to the point where only some really strong language and loud voices can express the incomprehensible nature of it all.

Do I think G-d was offended? Is it blasphemous to speak this way to the Almighty? Does this mean I don’t honor and respect Him?

No. No. No.

I know G-d can handle the raw anger thrown His way a whole helluva a lot better than, say, my husband or my children. He never interrupts or brings up that one time in Mexicali when… or how His mother was so much more perfect than I could ever be.

He let me yell until I was done and then He whispered. His whisper rolled across my bitter little heart and slivers and sharp edges, thorns and barriers melted away.

Grace is like that.

No, the circumstances haven’t changed and yes, I’m still pissed because life is just plain unfair.

As I sat in the weak light of a slivered moon and my voice finally died away to nothing, He whispered to me. He told me the darkness is just as much a beginning as the dawn and He told me I needed to hold on tight. He assured me He’s not going anywhere.

I’m fighting mad. And broken and weak. My life didn’t dramatically change. No knight in shining armor came to save the day.

See, apparently those words weren’t about getting my way but about getting real with G-d. Down to the gooey center. Down to the ugly bits.

Was G-d ok with that?

When I was finally quiet, He showed me the stars.

I think we’ll be ok.