I Let God Have It In The Shower
Faith | Life

I Let God Have It In The Shower

I Let God Have It In The Shower

I let God have it while in the shower on Sunday night.

I got full on mad at Him while standing under a stream of water as hot as I could stand it, washing the boxed dye out of my hair.  

“Are you even listening to me?” I demanded. “Prove it.”

And then I sobbed, tears mixing with the water like a scene from Carrie Underwood’s “Cry Pretty” music video. I wrestled with guilt while I cried because on paper, I shouldn’t be standing in my shower asking God what He’s up to. I’ve got family and friends who love and adore me. A roof over my head. Food in my fridge. Enough money in the bank to pay the bills and put a little in savings. A good job with a decent paycheck. A sweet-yet-obnoxious little pup waiting for me on the couch.

Yet there I stood, feeling defeated, lost, and lonely.

I grew up being told you aren’t supposed to question God. You’re not supposed to ask “why” when life gets tough. I never fully bought into that. I’ve always questioned things, and if God didn’t want me to question, surely he wouldn’t have made me curious. As I’ve gotten older and found my own identity in Christ, I’ve learned it’s okay to ask Him why – if you believe He will answer you.

I full on ugly girl cried in the shower. Big tears, gasping breaths, all of it. For days, I had been asking God for a sign, something that said “hey, I’m here.” I’ve done that many times in the past. I asked for a sign about moving to Chapel Hill, left my apartment a little while later, and the first ar I met on the road had a license plate that read “Tarheels.” I full on heard His voice tell me to move to Nashville. I can look back at all those times and find His assurances, or at least, His hand in directing me in the right direction. 

This time? Radio silence. Nothing. Not a peep. Not even a license plate. Patience isn’t my strong suite as it is and in that moment, I threw a temper tantrum.

I struggle with being vulnerable, but earlier in the evening, I admitted to one of my best friends that I felt like I was failing. Owning a barre studio has a lot of pros, but damned if it doesn’t come with a whole other set of cons and right now, those cons are trying their best to override all the pros. I’m generally optimistic to a fault, grateful beyond measure, but when you’re down in the weeds like I am at the moment, it can be a struggle to see past the forest. Or whatever that saying is. I hit a point where I just need a break – any sort of break, be it a break in business or a break to just SIT STILL. 

So, God and I had a talk. Out loud. Voices got raised. I stood there looking at the ceiling at one point and informed God that I recognize that He’s trying to teach me something right now, but could He please give me some sort of indication as to what that something is? And since we were at it and I was good and fired up, I informed him it would be really great of Him to just show me where the man He intends to be my husband is because honestly.

I wallowed in those feelings of frustration and self-pity for a while. Lately, I’ve been wrestling with feelings of “I should be farther along by now.” At 32, I should be past the point of rented apartments and half-hearted attempts at making small talk on Hinge dates. Surely I should at least have a clear idea as to what the hell I’m doing.

Instead, I was crying in the too small bathroom of my too small apartment, asking God if He hears me because He’s been mighty silent these last few days and I could use some guidance, or at least some reassurance that He’s there and working all of this out for my greater good. All things beautiful in his time, as it says in Ecclesiastes.

It was hard for me to stand there and question God. It was hard to get mad at Him. But I think there’s a difference between questioning God, and doubting God because even in the middle of my tantrum, I had no doubt as to His extistence and faithfullness. As I washed out my conditioner, I ran through a mental list of the promises God kept in the Bible to Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Israel. I reminded myself that Jesus asked God to spare his life, but if he must die, God’s will be done. Verse after verse to remind myself that God is good and He keeps his promises.

I can ask God why. I can ask Him to show me the lessons He’s trying to teach me, the direction He wants me to go, the burning bush He wants me to pay attention to. (And I wouldn’t say no to Him setting a bush on fire to get his point across at the moment, metaphorically speaking). I can ask as long as I believe He’ll answer.

As of this writing, He hasn’t shed any light on what He’s up to, nor has He sent me a Google map that will lead me to husband. I know He’ll tell me what’s up when He’s good and ready – or more accurately, when I’m good and ready. I know He’s already forgiven me for my shower breakdown.  

And I know all of this will make sense in the long game. Because while He didn’t say “here’s the big plan, and oh, by the way, take a left at the light at the end of the street, drive four blocks, and boom! Marry that guy,” He did send me this verse as part of Sunday night’s scripture reading:

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” – Philippians 4:6-7

Which happens to be followed by:

“I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” – Philippians 4: 12-13

And finally:

“And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.” – Philippians 4:19

He will meet all of my needs.

He always does.

Even when we get mad. Even when we ask questions. Even when we demand answers.

So go ahead, God. Do your thing. 

I’ll wait. 

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