Anger Not Required

I was angry at God. Angry that my oldest son wasn't here. Angry that my husband, middle son, and daughter were all in daily pain. I was angry at all the injustice in the world, and I was angry that my friend was lying in the hospital fighting COVID-19.

A month ago, there was nothing I could do to sugarcoat the built-up layers of my emotions I discovered God was peeling back. It was as if I was a sailor buffeted in a sea of anger, the lifeboat within reach, and yet choosing to drown.

As I shared in a previous post, I wrestled with the fact that my children were having to go through major surgery. I concluded that God's intent was to bring health and wholeness to the kids. Knowing recovery would be grueling, I didn't expect surgery to stir up other problems in the kids' bodies.

Post-surgery, my son in particular, struggled to recover. He fought an infection as his underlying condition was triggered, and he was overwhelmed by constant spells of dizziness, nausea, and hives for almost a full month.

The litany of challenges didn't stop there. Both children struggled with constant pain and exhaustion as they returned to school. My husband's vertigo and headaches piled on. Close friends were experiencing intense trials. The number of young people, on the verge of suicide, seemed to be reaching out for help at an increasing rate.

While I gave all I had to each, ultimately I could not relieve any of their burdens, let alone my own.

By the end of the summer, my emotional reservoir was empty. I stopped spending time in scripture and turned back to questioning. Why God? How does allowing my family or the world to suffer accomplish your best for us? Isn't all of this supposed to be your job? Why am I working so hard for what you claim to have under control? This doesn't feel like you have it under control.

The pushback started with a little moodiness here and there. Most could be explained away by the preparation, surgery, and recovery for my kids. As long as nothing triggered my temper, the undercurrent remained hidden.