I Believe, But…

Oh what I’d give for a hundred years!
But the physical interferes
Every day more–O my Creator!
What is the good of the strongest heart
In a body that’s falling apart?
A serious flaw–I hope You know that
-Eva “Waltz for Eva and Che”- Evita, Andrew Lloyd Webber

Sometimes I wish I weren’t a thinking, rational human being.  Sometimes I wish I could just happily and simply take everthing told to me on faith as truth and not have to struggle with them or over analyze them or face the disappointment of questions unanswered.

Thankfully, that’s only sometimes.  Most of the time I realize that that line of thinking will just get me in trouble because there are too many bad influences and bad people out there just to simply trust everything.  So generally I’m glad to be able to think for myself.

But it doesn’t lessen my frustrations with questions.

My current struggle is God’s presence or culpabilty in bad situations.  I thought I was pretty good with the whole idea that God is good, so God is never the cause of bad things but He does allow consequences which means that sometimes bad things happen and He’s there to help us find the good in the bad situations.  I was just getting to the point where I was okay with that and trusting that again.

So why the heck and hades do things happen that would bring me back down from that place again?  I’m so frustrated.  I’m okay with faith being purified in fire, I’m just not sure I have the strength for it at the moment.  I know some will say all this is simply a consequence of doing things out of God’s time and God’s order, but I’m not really questioning the loss of my little one.  I”m absolutely heartbroken and it’s going to take time to get over and move on.  But I know I’ll be able to do that. 

I question where things go from here.  I question a God that’s all good and all powerful could mess me up so badly.   I hurt so badly because just when I think I’m getitng back to a place where I feel I can trust God again, that trust appears to be broken again…Because timing and order doesn’t change the fact that I’m seriously flawed, and I didn’t make any choices or decisions to become that way.  I was MADE that way.

You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb.  Psalm 139:13 NLT

For years I believed that my sexual shortcomings , both emotional and physical, had to do with the abuse I suffered at the hands of male family members when I was younger.  And it hurt so bad getting over that and moving on.  And I know I haven’t don’t that fully, or even close to fully, but I have forgiven and worked on moving forward. 

Years ago I also found out that that my body was physical imperfect as well as emotionally imperfect.  And this week I found out it’s even more messed up than we realized, to the point of being practically unfunctional.

How does that work?  I know I’m not the only one like this.  I know there are parents out there who have special needs children and adults out there who have hearts that aren’t right and kidneys that need machines to work and so forth.  And I know that some of these things are caused by others actions, such as mother’s drug use during pregnancy, etc.  But I know other things are uncontrolable, such as with my condition.  Simply chromosomes that are messed up at the point of conception, at the point of being “knit together.”  How can God NOT have a part in that if it’s true that He’s the one doing the building and creating?  If He’s the master architect or the primary potter who else is to blame when there are design flaws?  How is it possible to reconcile a diety of pure goodness who creates such flawed creatures?

Because, let me tell you, it’s hard for me to keep towing the party line, to keep repeating the “God is in control” mantra… to trust that his plan really is the best… because I really can’t figure out how my flawed body is “best” for anyone…

that “blind faith” part of me is seriously flawed as well… 

Jesus, I do know there is a reason.  I do know you are in control.  I do know that you are big enough even when I am fallen down so small.  “I believe; but help my unbelief”