Originally written: September 8, 2015
Tonight was a long night on my feet and when I returned home, I was grumpy. I was angry because I wanted to eat something that tasted yummy, with lots of flavor, not good for me. I wanted pizza and chips and pie (and I don’t even like pie, unless it’s Boston Cream Pie, in which case give me two slices!).
Brian and I stood in the small space between the oven and our counter. I leaned on the green granite and his body and gave him a long glance. And for just a solitary, fleeting moment I wondered if I’ve got it all wrong.
What if this Christianity stuff is all just a fake? What if there is no God?
Forgive me, Lord, I thought in the very next breath. Forgive me.
And I walked over and picked up my phone to check my email, and of course, the Lord had already answered. He answered in the form of an email, from a young lady who rarely every emails, to let me know that today her “Bible study’s prayer focus was for those with MS. Not a coincidence,” she said, since she had just seen me the hour before for the first time in months. She wanted to let me know that I’d been on her heart and in her prayers all summer.
And I believed it. Because God was answering now. He even had the courtesy to email!
But I am mostly struck by his incredible, breathtaking GRACE. Even amidst the torrents of blessings, of confirmations, of answers, I question Him.
I do not deserve this God or His amazing grace. But oh, how sweet it is.
As Brian and I sat for a late dinner together, children already in bed, I prayed aloud for the two of us: “I believe. Help my unbelief.”