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When God Doesn’t Give Me What I Want

When God Doesn’t Give Me What I Want

Ps62_8I handed him his breakfast but something was wrong. His usual cheery “Thank you Mummy!” didn’t happen.  In its place: an epic meltdown.

“But I waaa-aaaant them in a rouuuund bluuuuuue boooohhh-bowl!” He crumpled to the floor and sobbed into his arms.

Thus began an hour-long wrestle with my gorgeous child.

We have a round blue cup. We have a round blue snack cup (that I think looks a lot like a bowl). We have a round blue plate. We have an oval blue bowl. But no round blue bowl.

Disappointed sobs gave way to frustrated growls which gave way to deeply sad silent tears. My words of logic did not help. My displaying of all the cup and bowl options did not help. My attempts at comfort, guidance, correction, and discipline did nothing. He was stuck. And so was our day. All plans put on hold.

“Lovey,” I tried to soothe him. “They will taste the same no matter what container they are in.”

“But I really only love food in round blue bowls.” He was adamant.

_ _ _

I see myself in him.  For, I really want life served in the containers of my choosing. I want things go according to my plans. I want things to be as I wish.

Oh friends.  Isn’t it true that, sometimes often (?!), God’s provision comes in a manner we don’t like? Didn’t plan for?  And the Holy Spirit’s work in our lives takes us down paths we don’t particularly enjoy?  And Yahweh allows us to experience circumstances, seasons, and lessons that are so not what we wanted?!

He hands me the nutrition I need… but I don’t like the container.

– – –

This week has been a wild disappointment. I’m speaking at our church this Sunday so I really needed all the variables of our lives to be at absolute peace. Instead, one kid has the crazy cough and flu that’s going around, the baby had a little reaction to a shot and isn’t sleeping without being held, and I ended up having a violent migraine that needed medical intervention late at night.  As my amazing man pretty much carried me to the car to get me to the hospital, I was begging God to heal me.  I was reminding Him that I didn’t have time or money to go to the ER.  I was reminding Him that I needed to spend the evening in sermon prep, not a waiting room. I was ungrateful and angry. Why was He allowing this!?!?! It was an epic meltdown.

As the hours rolled on at the hospital, God pulled open the curtains of my understanding to see that He had a plan.  That He had brought me there. (Not that He made me sick… but that He was using all things for good… as He always does. Thank you, Abba.) And then He gave me an incredible opportunity to pray for a family in crisis.  And then He showed me the whole night was a gift for me. That He was walking me through the sermon topic in the deepest way.  That He was giving me the experience so I could share it on Sunday. That He is the God He says He is. Good. Huge. Magnificent. Loving.

This week I found life served to me in a bowl I did NOT want.  But today, I am deeply grateful for it. I am, as always, embarrassed that I didn’t trust Him in the journey. And He is, as always, pouring His Love and mercy and forgiveness into my heart.  Selah.

 Let all that I am wait quietly before God,
    for my hope is in him.
He alone is my rock and my salvation,
    my fortress where I will not be shaken.
My victory and honor come from God alone.
    He is my refuge, a rock where no enemy can reach me.
O my people, trust in him at all times.
    Pour out your heart to him,
    for God is our refuge.
(Psalm 62:5-8 NLT)

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