Angry

I'm angry. And I guess that's no surprise. I learned as a child that angry people are people who are hurting, and both are true right now. I don't like the "ugly" emotions. Anyone who knows me knows that. I am often the peacemaker, the one who tries to see good, the one who tries to understand other's perspectives and not dwell in anger. Trevor was really the one exception. Maybe Trevor and my mom. I was secure enough in their love to let the ugly, raw emotions be seen. In that safe place of Trevor's love, I was more frustrated and "fought" more than ever before. And we both received so much healing in the honesty. And his chest was always, always the place I ended up leaning that scrunched up, sobbing head. 

 And I am so flipping angry at God these days. Maybe that's a good thing. It's certainly not a bad thing. If He's nearly as good as I think He is, that's what He expects. And He's better than we know. So there's that. But oh, My God, how are you good? A few weeks ago, in worship, I felt the tangible, deep compassion of Jesus, as He looked at me and said how sorry He was that I had to experience death. That death and separation break His heart too, as these were never part of the original plan in the Garden. We were never meant to have to say goodbye to someone whom we had become ONE with, to the ones who birthed us, or grew up with us. We were never meant to have to go through ugly church splits and failing friendships and heartbreaking divorces. And, oh, I wept when I felt this brokenness and separation of humanity, outside of paradise. It was like that compassion that I felt broke something open in me and I no longer had to be hopeful and looking for silver linings. It was okay to be completely not okay and heartbroken. I wept and wailed even as I have not been able to do so far. My heart is broken over the fact that I never get to be with my Trevor again in these bodies. I am broken. 

And what felt like a move of compassion opened up breaking waves of questions and anger. Well, if You're so sorry, why the heck did You not come up with a better plan to begin with? What's worth the collective pain of millions/ billions of people? And if You planned another way and this is plan B, why wasn't Your original plan a little more foolproof? Two fools and a snake in the garden, and whoops! There goes humanity. Thousands of years of war and pain and sickness and separation because of a defiant disobedience. And I've heard and understand the though behind the need for free will, but You made us! Could you not have made us a little better? Oh, but then we've got to have the need for a savior. How messed up is that? Would I deform my daughter as she's coming out of the womb so that she will always need me?! That sounds controlling, and at this moment, even evil. HOW could You be this good God that I've hoped You are? 

I don't know. But I'm asking. I'm not afraid to ask and wail and yell. There is certainly precedent for it with the ones known as friends of God. 

Trev at Tahoe. 2015. Always searching and asking...