The ridiculously heavy tank had been in the back yard since I moved it last summer. It belonged to a 1920’s pump house, where it sat on a concrete slab perched atop a well. It had a good view of that hole in the ground, I know because I dismantled the pump house myself last summer. Perhaps it is more accurate to say I hastened the pump houses’ demise, as it had fallen half way down when I started to take it apart. If factual accuracy is the goal, I would have to confess I didn’t move the tank as much as I dragged that sucker across the lawn until it became wedged in the grass, where upon I would switch ends and push the tank until I collapsed. Commencing a 5 minute reflective pause, I would look up at the sky from my horizontal position until I regained the strength to stand up again and restart the process. Taken one step further it would be honest to say I was pushing the wretched beast across the lawn when my neighbor caught sight of me and came running over to help, lest he be the first to witness death by fury: me spontaneously combusting due to sheer frustration at the shockingly fabulous construction and astonishing longevity of that hunk of metal. My neighbor is a nice man, whom I have known since high school. Fortunately he knows my family long enough to not to question our behavior, and shows up whenever “accidental death by project” seems imminent. Small towns are nice that way.
After my neighbor and I carried the tank the remaining
distance in a civilized manner, it sat in the garden and waited to be taken to
the scrap yard. I secured it in a safe
spot until the time came to remove it. Whenever I looked outside, I would see
that big old tank and sigh. “I will get
to you soon.” I wanted to remove that thing countless times, but there were
other things to do before its removal.
So there it sat.
As I was getting ready to move the tank last week, I was met
with an unexpected delay, which got me thinking this week about the subject of
waiting. Waiting for God to remove that
which causes us distress can be an agonizing experience. Unanswered prayer brings with it issues of
God’s sovereignty and the mystery of suffering.
When God doesn’t remove distress it can be distressing. If you think that sentence ridiculous, I would
challenge you to waltz through the praystagram world, where suffering is wound
up with a bow and a side of spiritual unicorns. Wait patiently, drinking coffee from your Jerimiah
29:11 scripture cup until God removes that which has blocked your freedom, and
persevere until you attain a higher level is a crap message stemming from crap
theology friend. For those who are
locked in prolonged suffering I would say, if you have friends who swim in this
stream of saccharine positivity, it won’t be long till they leave you by
yourself because watching someone struggle, watching someone who can’t read
their coffee cup, is a real inhibition to their solid breakthrough. On a positive note, if you are left alone,
you will swear at them less, I guarantee it.
I’m feeling a bit spicy - yes.
But dear suffering friend, please remember that even if you
are left with a situation you cannot remove, a situation that has you
powerless, if all your happy-clappy friends are gone, taking their expensive
slogan t-shirts with them, please remember that your God is kind. He might seem like a monster but he is
kind. When the unanswered prayer weighs
on your mind like my ridiculously-heavy-but-ever-so-well-made** water tank
there is one thing left to do.
You must bow.
Bow with all your rage, disappointment, and dismay. Get on your face and tell him he is God and
you are not. Wrestle with the issue of
sovereignty until you are exhausted. Stay
there repeating every scripture your mind can grasp about the goodness of God. Struggle. Cry. Wash your face and stand up again.
Seasons come and go and it is likely that although you feel
like you will never recover, in time, you will.
This does not mean you won’t experience loss. Despite the burden, God will bring new
life. Sometimes, it comes from
unexpected places and unexpected ways, but nothing stays the same forever. Hold on.
Do not give up. Keep on. God is for you.
My water tank? The one
waiting for the scrap yard, I tried to move it last week. Looks like I have a bit longer to wait. Sound
on.
xoxKaren
** I couldn’t point it out earlier, but I hope you got that
clever pun. Well made… did you catch
it? Water tank for a well? Didn’t even
have to make that one up. It just flowed…
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