February 10, 2011 by Nicole
I am not sure which psalm most accurately describes the past week–13, 44, or 89? In every single one of these psalms, David asks God the same question: “O Lord, how long will this go on?” Well, David, I hear you, buddy. After a totaled out car and yet another awful turn of events in my husband’s job search, I am asking the same question.
I find myself wondering, especially in the last week, David’s same question in Psalm 13: “How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart?” Honestly, I am heartbroken. Last week, we were in a car accident in which our car, which we owned free and clear, was smashed up badly enough (By another driver who was traveling much too fast for the icy road conditions; thankfully, no one was seriously injured.) that we can neither afford to fix it, the insurance will not pay enough to cover the damages, and we cannot really afford another car payment.
Last night, my husband had to break the news that the army abruptly “terminated” the whole chaplain proceedings. The doctor who originally, several months ago, halted the application procedure on the basis of my husband’s now obsolete migraines (it’s been at least two years since he’s had one, and he has never missed a day of work due to a migraine.), initially reversed her decision after our family doctor clarified that there was in fact no issue with my husband’s health. As of yesterday, he was only about a month away from taking the boards in March, going for six weeks of training in Carolina this summer, and becoming an army chaplain. The doctor has reconsidered and, for an entirely different set of reasons, has brought the whole process to a complete stop; unless a miracle happens, Randy will not get to be a chaplain.
Once again, the rug has been pulled out from under us.
Ostensibly, nothing has changed. We are still working hard to make ends meet every month and managing to get by. But nonetheless, here we are again–the end was finally in sight, and just like that, *poof.* It’s gone.
I suppose that at one point, I would have been angry about all this, or have fallen back into a deep depression. But the thing is that I am not really angry, frustrated, or fighting with my depression. Yes, I have cried a little since last night, but for the most part, I have managed by the Grace of God to make peace with and accept that I have no control over any of this. As hard as it is and as much as I hate it, my will is not God’s Will. God owes me no explanation for why all this is happening and why this has been going on for almost ten years now.
Last night, I found myself having a very different reaction to all of this. I looked up at God, took a deep breath, and said, “Okay, now what? You said to trust you, so I am. I am going to do my best to not to worry about the future, not to be anxious, and I am not going to be angry. You know that’s a big improvement for me. I’m tired, I weary, but I surrender. Please help us out. I know you can fix this.”
Now all that’s left to do is wait. And hope.
Dear God: I don’t really know what to say other than I am feeling a little shell-shocked. Help. Amen.