Breakthrough

I wrote this on 11/20/2008. Some background - for the past few months I had felt something wasn't right, but I couldn't put my finger on what. I decided that I must be going through a dry time and to keep doing what I knew was right even if I didn't feel like it. Then...

Well, I prayed that God would take me to the next level, and He did. Tonight I went to my Bible study (didn't want to, btw) and there was a guest speaker there. He started by talking about how this was a "divine appointment" and how if God went through the trouble to orchestrate this, He must have something incredible He wants to say to someone. The way He said it, it was actually exciting, not corny. Then he proceeded to talk about Peter, my favorite dude, so I had even higher hopes. But the theme of his talk was surrendering all control to Jesus and letting Him flow through you instead of getting filled up and pouring out (see my blogs about trees). I was furious with him. I was angry that he was talking about how we could impact people's lives and be powerful if we would just let the Spirit flow through us. In my mind I was listing time after time I completely surrendered myself to God (as much as I'm humanly able) and He let me down. I was mad at the speaker for saying what he said, but I was more mad at God for letting me force myself to obey by doing and saying what I knew to be true, when I was constantly "disappointed again."
The problem with being a Christian for a long time and studying the Bible a lot is that you can't even be honestly mad at God. I know all the right answers - God is moving, He's just not doing what I want... Abraham waited ten years but I can't wait ten minutes... Even Peter and Paul had their down times. Since I can't allow myself to be mad at God, I tell myself these things to try to make myself feel better, but sometimes all the logic in the world can't change the way I feel. So I was trying not to cry and trying desperately to find a way to reconcile knowledge and feelings.
When we broke into small groups, I refused to talk. I said after the day I'd had I just wanted to listen. That really made people uncomfortable, but they were great about it. I just didn't want to cry... not there. It occurred to me that I might not be able to cry later if I forced myself to keep in in once more, but I still didn't want to.
When we started praying, I realized this whole thing was about a baby I watched suffocate to death because no one would treat him because he had AIDS. I gave up everything to go to Africa, and for what? To watch a little boy die. Everything in Ghana fell apart after that. Somehow, I felt God had to make it up to me, so I demanded things from Him. Of course, He didn't comply. Since then I've done the right things, said the right truths, and really tried to live with God's Spirit flowing through me. But the truth is I've never been able to trust Him or forgive Him, and I"m not able to love new kids.
By then I was crying, hard. I was still trying to rationalize how God could have let that happen. Suddenly I saw myself holding that baby, and I saw my arms handing him up to Jesus. I shut out the picture - I didn't want to give him up. Then I realized that I needed to allow God to continue the vision no matter how much it hurt. I saw the baby in Jesus' arms, and I was furious. How dare He be holding him! He was mine! But then I started to notice that the baby's face was different. He didn't look sick and emaciated. And he was so happy. His face glowed. He was smiling and clapping his hands and just so happy. Then I heard the words, "It was you who put him there."
I realized that as dramatic as this sounds, I bonded with that baby like he was my own son. Though adopted, he had become my son, and I will never get over his loss. But now i have the image of him with Jesus, and that really helps. I feel the healing has begun.