You know those days – the ones where the cat gets so sick she ends up in ‘pet hospital’ on an IV drip overnight and the vet bill is enormous; the ones where your husband has to clear out his late father’s house and say goodbye to the place he once called home; the ones where the dishes pile high and you’re wearing the same socks as yesterday because you simply cannot keep up with the laundry; the ones where your newborn baby won’t stop crying.
Last week was a long, hard week. The weekend got swallowed up in tears and grief and problems. Then life began munching away at the week too, and before I knew it it was Tuesday and I was on my knees on my kitchen floor, crying, listening to my baby girl shout and scream, while the cat was throwing up all over our hallway carpet, and I cried out to God how unfair it all was. I asked Him where He was. I shouted and screamed to my Father just as my little one cried out for me, asking Him why when I really needed Him, He was nowhere to be found.
But our God is oh so gentle and loving. He is patient and infinitely kind. He took pity on His daughter and He dried my tears and whispered the words I had read on Intentional By Grace that captured my heart all those years ago: “Why do you keep rising from your knees?”
When things are good, I am so quick to dismiss my need for God. I thank Him still – for the little things, the eucharisteo, the blessings of a baby who is a great night sleeper, a lovely home that we can afford, the chance to be a stay-at-home-mum, a loving husband, His provision. Yes, I thank Him, but I forget to listen to Him.
The truth is, sometimes God has to bring me to my knees in order for me to remember to pray, to remember that He is God, to remember my need for Him.
So maybe, weak and impatient as I am, I need to learn not to rage and shout when things go wrong, but simply to find that there is no need to sink to my knees, because I am already there. I am already praying and gaining strength no matter the circumstances around me.
And it starts here – as the baby sleeps quietly and the cat is calm, as the grief settles and the house is peaceful once more – this is where I must fall to my knees and praise Him and listen to Him, to recognize that I still need Him now, perhaps even more so, than I do in my pain.