Friday

Would You Know My Name?



Wow, I can't believe it's been almost 2 months since I was here. I suppose I stayed away because I didn't want to write about the sadness in my life & because I didn't feel I was ready to go back to singleness talk quite yet. But since the tears have been flowing at a swift pace lately, it appears that now I am.

The topic of my singleness continues to grow as a struggle in my heart. I hate being angry at God about it. And I'm really just so tired of the whole thing.

A few mornings ago I woke up with an aching heart. I'd barely come to full consciousness when the words "Why, God?" pulsated out of my dreams. But just as I started to glance heavenward, looking for an answer, something inside of me halted. I actually put up my hand and said, "No. I don't want to hear it."

Now, let me preface that by saying I don't know that God was about to say anything. My fear that He doesn't speak to me will have to wait for a later entry. But, truth be told, I don't think I shushed Him that morning. If I thought God was truly going to say something, I'd be all ears. I was hushing what I suspected would merely be one more pointless conversation ... with myself. The same arguments, the same tears, the same expression of grief. All of which would go, once again, unanswered.

They say, "Just wait." "Be patient." "God has a plan." But after two decades of hearing it and, for the most part, believing it, this hopeless romantic who always knew God had marriage and family in her future is beginning to doubt. And doubt leads to pain and pain leads anger and anger leads to a hardened heart. Which is the last thing I want. But I also don't want to hurt anymore. So I let the tears fall ... and close off my thoughts & emotions to everything else.

Fortunately, I see what I'm doing & maybe, with the knowledge that God really does love me, I can find my hope & joy again.

Even if He never says a word.



1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Thanks for sharing, Sharyn. You know, Jill Briscoe once said that God gives us enough tears to keep our clay moist so He can mold us.