Image by Lel4nd via Flickr
The road trip from Louisiana to California was freeing. We drove with the windows down and played our favorite music as loud as we could. Despite the fact that we were in our early twenties, we felt so much older. The pressure of keeping up appearances caused us to constantly worry about our actions. We had forgotten what it was like to be carefree and simply enjoying life. The solitude of the open road made us feel safe and allowed us to loosen up a little bit.
We spoke candidly with each other, sharing our dreams, hopes and concerns. We were both beginning to question our leaders. They contained a certain level of control over our lives, decisions and actions. But, despite the fact that our entrapment was glaringly obvious to anyone on the outside, we convinced ourselves that our questions were a sign of weakness. We believed that our leaders and pastors only wanted the best for us, so surely the fault was within our own hearts. We concluded that we just weren’t mature enough yet to see the whole picture. We just needed time…that was all.
Once we arrived, we were told that we would be staying with a single man in the church until our apartment was ready. I felt my stomach turn at the thought of staying with someone again. I took comfort in the fact that it would only be a matter of weeks and not months this time around. That made me feel better… that is until we saw our accommodations.
Our makeshift room contained an air mattress with a sheet thrown on top and a trash can. It didn’t have a door, so a shower curtain was wedged in between the door frame to give us a sense of privacy. I whispered my disdain to Barry as we brought in our suitcases. He chuckled at the aggravated look on my face and reminded me to be thankful that we even had a place to stay. Annoyed with his answer I playfully slammed the door (shower curtain) on my way back out to the truck. I needed to grab the box containing our bedding, but more than anything I needed a moment to myself.
Looking up at the sky I rested my arms across the back of tailgate. I was weary from the long drive, and my emotions were raw as a result. But as I stood there, alone with my thoughts I finally admitted to God how mad I was at Him. I wanted to please Him more than anything, but it seemed as though I never could. Every time I got my hopes up that our situation would get better I was instantly brought back to feeling like it never really would. Things were becoming personal between us…for the first time in my life I was beginning to think God was all about seeing His children suffer. It pained me to realize that my Heavenly Father wasn’t actually how I had pictured Him. I wanted nothing more than to pour out my heart to God, to cry and tell Him about how hard I felt things were becoming for us. But, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t face the possibility of God slapping my hand in disgust over my ungrateful attitude and lack of faith.
My relationship with my Lord was changing, and I wasn’t convinced that is was for the better.
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