Raining Shoes

The devotions for next week were challenging to write. Pastor is planning to do a series for the next six weeks on how God’s ways are not our ways (Isaiah 55:8-9). This week’s theme was on God’s timing, drawing its focus from Habakkuk 2:3, how long Lord?

How do we deal with delay? I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t deal well. Currently I am under-employed. The work I have is sporadic. Now, it’s not that I don’t mind the occasional day off, but the bills which my family and I have created are not sporadic. There has been no movement on the part of Worker’s Comp to come through with payment of my husband’s salary. My severance package is about to make its first step down. I’m trying not to panic, but it’s hard to trust what feels like poor timing on God’s part.

Nelson did point out one very interesting thing yesterday. He is allowed to go back to work on September 8 and that is right about the same time that my severance package will be ending. Just an interesting timing piece.

One of the verses that I reflected on for the devotions next week was Psalm 31:15. I sat in the coffee shop writing and I got really stuck on the phrase: my times are in your hands. I wonder if that’s where Allstate got the inspiration for their slogan: you’re in good hands. If an insurance company can claim that and make good on it, how much more can God? So I began to wonder: do I believe that I am in God’s hands and do I believe that they are good hands?

Back in the days when I was a chaplain/therapist I would ask folks to draw their impression/image of God. I always drew a large hand cradling a small child. I was so pleased to find a figurine of that a few years ago. There is just something so powerful in the image of being held. I guess that’s why I really like the Isaiah passage that refers to being called, held, and kept.

I guess the thing that troubles me is that I have a quivering deep inside. Is it fear? And if it is, why? My head knows I’m held by an all powerful, gracious God who loves me and wants the best for me. Is the quivering natural, like the feeling you get just before the roller coaster goes over the first hill? Satan would try to convince me that the quiver is doubt in the grace and mercy of God. But I know better. I just want to know why it’s there.

I want to know why I have this sick in my gut feeling, and why I keep looking for the other shoe to drop. If Jesus’ promise is true, then I should be expecting joy unspeakable, but I anticipate more negative, loss, and frustration. I don’t like living this way. I just don’t know how not to.

So until something changes, I’ll trust my head, ignore my gut, and dodge the shoes.