Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Temper Tantrums. Not Just for the Young


It was a cold, dreary night. The wind pounded against the windows. I could hear tiny pellets of rain smacking  against the house and I slipped ever-so-gently into a peaceful slumber.

Without warning, the phone rang and rudely jarred me from sleep.

It was my husband.

Instantly awake, I grabbed the phone.
Please dear Lord, don't let anything be wrong. Let him be all right.

"Hey sweets, just wanted to let you know that house we were looking at? Someone put an offer in on it, and it looks like it was accepted."

Of course, at that time, I was so thankful there wasn't anything mortally wrong with him. I mean, come on. He's my best friend. So, I assured him it was fine, that it was God's answer to our combined prayers in regards to obtaining this house, and have a good night.

And I meant it. Every single word.

Until morning.

See, we thought we found the 'perfect' house. Model worthy. Granite countertops, trey ceilings, hardwood flooring, 1800 sq feet, double vanities in the master bath, bay window, *sigh*...must I go on?! And, to make things even better, it was affordable.
Yes please!

But now? Now that someone else is going to own what I'd set my heart on? It's like pouring gobs of salt on an open wound. And lemon juice. With more salt on top. Forget the cherry. Let's just punch the wound to mash in the salt and lemon juice just to make sure I got the point. Twice.

Look. I'll be honest with you. This morning, when it dawned bright and clear that God had once again said no to the very thing I wanted, I pouted. In fact, I was upset. Well, actually, it was more than upset. Try hurt, frustrated, miserable, teary-eyed and mad all mixed into one huge pity party, and you'll pretty much get an idea of what my morning was like.

(To my poor family: I'm sorry. From the deepest recesses of my heart, I truly am sorry.)

This morning, my attitude was so very foul, that I, (silently), fussed at God. Yes, I do this silently for a reason. The fewer people that think I'm crazy, the better.

And in fact, I pretty much asked Him to burn our house down so we could rebuild and have a nice house. Pretty nasty of me, isn't it? I know. I'm ashamed of it, but I do have a point. Stick with me for just a few more minutes and we'll get there.

And then, I started considering all those overwhelming details that seemed so very important. You know the ones. The poor-me, I have it soooo bad things.

Like drywall that needs repairing.
Landscaping that need to be finished.
Bugs to be sprayed for. (because I'm an 'ewwww, it's a bug!' freak.)
Wallpaper to be applied.
Painting that needs to be done.
Carpets that need to be cleaned.
A porch railing that needs to be finished.
A ceiling that needs to be finished.

As if all that weren't enough to send me to the pity-party-palace, I started dwelling on the things that weren't working.
Like our stove. Which, had we been able to purchase the other house, came with a nice, new, shiny stainless steel one.
A refrigerator that leaks.
And no garage.
Seriously. Having a man with no garage or pole barn is tough, and this morning, I thought it was the end of the world.

I had worked myself up into such a terrible pity mood, that I barely prayed loud enough for the kids to hear me during our morning devotionals. I even went so far as to 'wonder' to God if He liked telling me no.
Yep. It was that bad. I know, right? Stand back and watch for the lightening bolt!

And then a miracle happened. God sent a message through a friend of my husband's.
This wise person told the realtor's spouse (who is a mutual friend),
"They're good with their money and they don't do anything quickly without thinking everything through. They don't act impulsively and do something without praying and making sure that it's God's will."

Taking my husband aside, he asked how I was taking it. Of course, hubby didn't know I was having a major brat-fest because he was still at work, and he said, "She's disappointed, but she said that this obviously  wasn't God's will and she's good with that."
Boys. They can be so naive. Come on ladies, we were talking granite countertops...this was no laughing matter anymore!

We had prayed and prayed and prayed that if it was God's will, that He would allow us to have this house. I had philosophized with the usual:

"God's bigger than that."
"He's the Creator of the Universe. What's a house?"
"If I can trust Him with my salvation, I can trust Him with a tiny house, right?"
"I felt peace when we last saw it."

My point in all this is, what happened to this attitude when God said no?

I didn't take it well. I didn't philosophize then.
No indeedy.
In fact, I threw a fit.

What a spoiled brat I am.

And I'm so ashamed of myself. Truly ashamed. Because after a few minutes of sulking and fussing at God, a thread of optimism started to shine through the darkness. The still small voice of God started pricking my heart.

God: Your husband has a job. 
Me: I know, Lord, but still. I'm upset.

God: Your kids have a place to run and play.
Me: But this other house had the same amount of acreage, Lord.

God: I gave you a perfectly fine house.
Me: Yes, I know. But is it wrong for me to want something better with a garage?

God: Not at all. 
(and this is the kicker...)
God: But what if there was something at that other place you wouldn't have been able to handle? 

And my attitude vanished.
Because He's right.

I see only a small amount in the grand scheme of things. I only see this. Right. Now. Not so with God. He sees the whole picture. The eternal picture.

And that matters the most. Even more than granite countertops.

This is my attitude after I repented of my ugly attitude~

Me: My God is bigger than that.
God: Yes I am.

Me: But remember, Lord. If that house goes up for sale again or if it falls through, remember...
God: I'll keep it in mind.

Praise God He still loves us in spite of ourselves.
For further reading and growing, read Genesis 13:1-13; Genesis 19