My Only Hope

Last week at meeting, I gave vocal ministry. Afterward, a Friend asked whether it was hard for me. I said that it was, as it always is, but I find that when I am sick and tired, I talk more because I have less energy to fight with God.

Standing next to the ocean has always reminded me of the enormity of God and my own insignificance. Lately, I have felt like God is the ocean and I am in it, being thrown against the rocks. My fights with God usually go something like this: God, I am not going to do that. God, please don't make me do that. God, do I really have to do that? Okay, God, I will do it, but I am not going to be happy about it.

I get really angry with God sometimes, but that's okay. God can take it. And then when I am done, we continue on. At times, I hear a quieter voice from God, saying, "You know, we don't always have to do this the hard way . . ."

As a kid reading the Bible, I had a hard time with the command to love God. It made God seem needy and vain and I didn't want to love anyone who would demand love. This time through, I've started to see this differently. Loving makes us better people, the people God wants us to be.

I also didn't like the idea of God as a father. That description made me think of some distant, invisible disciplinarian. But what occurred to me recently is that God is family. Drive you crazy, call at the wrong time, you're stuck with me kind of family. No one knows you quite like family, and in a pinch, there's no one I would rather have at my side.