Lent, Discouragement, and He Who Shall Not Be Named
Two weeks into Lent and I’m a bit discouraged.
Not with the reading part. I miss reading books but I haven’t touched one since Lent began. I definitely read more in my Bible at first.
Then something happened.
It was like the more I read, the more hopeless I began to feel. The more time I spent with God, the more questions I started to have and the less things made sense. In fact, I just began to feel a little more angry that God allowed (yes, He allowed it) me to go through this kind of loss again. And now it’s all messed up even more and everything just seems – hopeless.
So I’m not really sure what to do at this point. I feel like the automatic answer would be, “Just keep reading! Keep trusting! God will speak to you!” But…
To be honest – I get so tired of reading the same upbeat advice on this path I’ve been put on. The posts on how everyone gets grace for everything, God’s love just pours down, everything happens just right because so many people prayed – so God answered! Just like they wanted! Yay! – blah blah and I’m left wondering, “What about me? What about my prayers? What about our family, my daughter, my heart?”
I can’t even tell if good things come my way and it might be just another hurdle for me to climb to a disaster or a real blessing. I am so hesitant to trust anything because I don’t want my heart broken again.
This isn’t me asking for answers or advice. There are no answers. None. I just need understanding. I’m at the point where Job was when his friends just sat with him; “The Greatest Therapy Session Ever.” No words, no anything. They were just there to be with him.
You know what I think this all is? I’ve given my life to Christ. Fully. Every day I start by thinking, “I’m yours. Whatever you want my life to be, for me to do for Your Glory – take it. I’ll mess up along the way but use that too.”
No one likes to talk about Satan (I don’t mind it but I seem to be the minority). In our Christian culture he’s become He Who Shall Not Be Named. Which is terrible. He’s been defeated – still powerful and still at work but defeated. He probably doesn’t like my little morning mantra. I’m not much, I am just a mom who didn’t finish college (dropped out at the end to write on here), lives in El Paso, complains and whines about life, likes to eat a few too many Girl Scout cookies, and is a full time sinner (40+ hours a week) – but I’m sure he knows God could do a great work with me if He chooses.
Maybe these feelings of inadequacy, discouragement, and constant struggle for any hope are the big ways that I can be kept from truly being used for the work of God. Maybe not – but maybe so.
Whatever this all is, it doesn’t matter. I’m still His – though He slay me.
Or though I feel a little confused and angry about life.
That’s not as catchy though.