crying uncle

"For in grief nothing 'stays put'. One keeps on emerging from a phase, but it always recurs. Round and round. Everything repeats. Am I going in circles, or dare I hope I am on a spiral? But if a spiral, am I going up or down it?"

- C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

i've been so irritated with you, God.

and i've felt like i keep coming back to this place of surrender and ashes, that i wonder, "Haven't i learned anything at all?" But perhaps it's only wishful thinking that hopes that a decision once made, a bridge once crossed needs never to be crossed again. I would hope to never wrestle with the demon, "God is not good" ever again, but that's not the way it works. I come back to grappling with him, again and again, until I finally cry uncle.

I'm awake at 4 in the morning with these thoughts, and the unquenchable Spirit you've put in me repeating, "I surrender, I surrender..." And I do yield, Lord. I resist that you are, in fact, a paradox; a combination of good and uncertain,  absent and faithful. I'd rather think that you are altogether pure and nothing evil can be done or allowed by you, or uncaring - wholly bent on your own will being executed and your glory attained.

You are both. And that is so very difficult for me to grasp.

I correct myself - You are not uncaring. Your caring is greater than what I want it to be. I would rather have Gwen than the shadow of the cross covering me. But that in itself it's own paradox - I will have Gwen again because of the cross.

I love C.S. Lewis. and how reading his books makes everyone think they can write as brilliantly as he did.

I've been irritated with you because what I know to be true and what I'm experiencing are different, and the only way of getting "even" with you (as if that were possible) seemed to be to ignore you and run away.

I appreciate that Lewis has felt the same: " I was getting from it the only pleasure a man in anguish can get; the pleasure of hitting back. It was really just Billingsgate -- mere abuse; 'telling God what I thought of Him.' And of course, as in all abusive language, 'what I thought' didn't mean what I thought true. Only what I thought would offend Him (and His worshippers) most. That sort of thing is never said without some pleasure. Gets it 'off your chest.' You feel better for a moment."

Haven't I already wrestled through this with you? Haven't I already decided, "No turning back"?? Why is this repeating itself?? And why, when even during my fits of false accusations (or true ones), I already know the answer, and know that I will eventually yield and trust? Does this mean that I'm a fool, never learning from past matches?

You are so bizarre, God. I arrive at last to the conclusion i've known all along, and what do i find waiting for me? Peace. bizarre.

I really just want you to tell me that you'll never do this to me again. and promise to give me other children. and remind me in tangible ways that I am loved by you, cared for, delighted in, adored. I want you to apologize, really. I want you to say you're sorry, and to make it right.

And perhaps as Blair suggested, you've been trying to do that very thing, but cannot comfort a writhing child, anxious to run away with her fingers plugged in her ears. but perhaps not.

"For I know whom I have believed,"  is my cry, Lord. I know your character, and though it's paradoxical, i know it can be trusted.

Oh Lord I believe! Help me in my unbelief. But oh God, tenderly, tenderly.