When God Answers
“Patience is a virtue,” is something I grew up hearing. I always pictured the fruit of the Spirit a bit like the Fruit of the Loom logo, with all the different types sitting together in a pile. I think that’s one of the effects of growing up in a Christian home; we take those teachings in so young and so often that sometimes they don’t really sink in, or their significance may not register. But then again, I guess there aren’t many five-year-old theologians out there for a reason.
It wasn’t until I was older (but not much wiser) that I started to question the weight of the posture of my heart and what it means to truly bear the fruit of the Spirit. Turns out, it’s not bananas and oranges with a side of grapes. When that truth did start to sink in, when I did ask God to deepen this faith I’d grown up with and strengthen the bond I had with Him, He answered. But, as He does, not in the way I expected and definitely not in the way I wanted.
I don’t want to say I didn’t want to put the work in – I wanted to read my Bible and pray and get to know Him better – but I was hoping that the bold prayers I was praying would somehow magically change my heart without having to walk through any valleys or fires or trials. Amen? Or is that just me?
Yes, Lord, deepen my marriage. Yes, Lord, strengthen my faith. Yes, Lord, make me a light for you. Yes, Lord. I said those prayers knowing they could mean hardship, but without the experience of life to understand how God usually works in our hearts.
During this last almost decade of my life in which I’ve seen God bear the very fruit I asked for in my own heart, I’ve also seen God walk my husband and I though those valleys, fires, and trials I had envisioned at the beginning of this journey but had disregarded as impossibilities. And while I can’t say I would go back and live them again, I can say now that I’m thankful for them.
One of the areas of my life that has been deeply affected is my writing. I’m a writer by nature. I have notebooks of little stories I wrote when my handwriting was barely legible and my idea for the next great American novel centered around a family of ants. Writing has helped me work through tough feelings, communicate my view of the world, and make a living. But over the last five years I’ve put little of significance out into the world. I used to blog, send out newsletters, write short stories, and help small businesses. And while I’ve had the occasional social media post or private writing here or there, for the most part I’ve lost all my words.
Why, God? I’ve asked that so many times over these last five years. Why would You take away the one thing I need to work through all these trials You’re walking us through? Why would you cut off a part of my life that has held so much significance for me for so long?
It’s funny to me how I can be so blind to the things that are right in front of me. On one hand I’m asking God to deepen my dependence on Him, and on the other I’m getting quite frustrated at Him for stripping down the things I’ve placed over Him. It wasn’t until quite recently that I realized how many things I’ve stacked above His head. Writing being near the top. Not on purpose, of course. I didn’t put these things in a pile in hopes of overshadowing Him. But He’s been slowly and patiently taking each thing off this pile I’ve created and letting me know it’s not needed. I don’t have to prove my worth to Him. I don’t have to prove my worth to the world. He’s all I need. It’s in Him that my faith will strengthen, my marriage will deepen, and I’ll find my true worth.
These revelations are helping me quite literally breathe easier, but I do still feel the weight to perform and somehow prove my worth. I wish His teachings would simply change my heart so I could honor Him with that, but I know better now. And I understand now that He’s not looking for me somehow prove my worth to Him. Through Him, I’m all I need to be. Even if I can’t write. Actually, especially when I can’t write.