Things became very messy on a recent car trip. Or just very real.
The kids and I were on our way to the hospital to see Russell last week. There was some Christian cd playing and the lyrics (that normally are so encouraging and faith-building) just set my brain on FIRE. And not in a good way.
I turned the music off and began a rant of note at God. Seriously, He and I had words. Serious words. No holding back from my side whatsoever. Tired, I was. Tired of all the platitudes and endless songs full of hope, joy, mercy and unfailing love.
My three kids sat in stunned silence. I turned the music back on and carried on driving. Within seconds I was compelled to turn it off once again.
'Any of you kids have anything you would like to say to God right about now?'
'You sure? He knows what you're thinking anyway.'
*shaking of heads*
I reach to turn the music back on.
'Wait! I have something to stay to Him!'
'Sure, buddy - go ahead - say what you feel.'
"Is this what we deserve?"
I did not even try to answer any of his questions.
This is my son who I catch with silent tears running down his cheeks.
My son who will not allow me to hold him when he is sad.
My son who insists he is FINE when he is hurting.
Finally he is opening up his heart to me and to God to ask these hard questions. He didn't even need me to answer them.
He just needed to vent to the only One who can graciously take our pain and give us the strength to keep going regardless of whether we ever find the answers.