Hallelujah, nevertheless.
“Hallelujah, nevertheless."
At first, I had so much grace in accepting both Payson's epilepsy and Kalea's death. Now as time moves on-- I've started looking around and wondering why I've been hit SO HARD.
Why am I the only one I know dealing with such huge trials & tradegies in my early twenties? Why does everyone else simply get married and have perfect little families? Why TWICE? Why TWO of my children?
There are days when I look in the mirror and see an old woman staring back at me. I feel like I've weathered enough heartache to last a lifetime. I'm not trying to say that I have a monopoly on grief-- but gosh. Some days it really feels like it.
I broke down last week. I sat on my parents kitchen counter and wept. One question (and so many tears) spilling out of me-- "Why does God hate me?”
I know, I know. I KNOW how stupid and cliche that sounds. And I know exactly what I would say if any one of my friends had asked the same question. But I honestly felt it. All I have tried to do is follow God-- and I've given up SO MANY THINGS to align my life with His will. But it hasn't worked out for me. If anything, things have gotten worse.
Maybe God just has it out for me. Maybe I just have a giant "kick me" sign on my back. Maybe He feels the need to smite me with the rod in wilderness again and again and again. And maybe I was just a self righteous sinner who needed to be punished.
My heart has broken over and over again. And the questions and wrestling and grief and anger haven't stopped. This morning, my mom and I were talking about something entirely different, and she said something that brought an unexpected answer.
She held up her hand and pinched her fingers together like she was holding a speck of dust. She said, "Remember that we only see this much of the plan. But God sees everything and in the end, He will make everything work out."
Boom. That really hit me. And it's not even anyting I didn't already know. It wasn't even that profound. It was just said at the right time when I needed it most. It immediately brought to mind a conversation with a friend that had shared with me several months ago how she'd gotten through a really difficult trial. She said you don't get see the end the first time you pray. It's a daily walk and a daily question of "what next God?" for weeks and months and sometimes years before any of it makes sense and before you have answers.
So, Hallelujah, nevertheless.
Hallelujah, even though I have no answers.
Hallelujah, even though my son has had four seizures today.
Hallelujah, even though you took my daughter away.
Hallelujah, even though none of this is what I wanted.
Hallelujah, this is your plan.
Hallelujah, I still believe.
Hallelujah, thank you for the blessings in the storm.
Sometimes all I have are whose two words-- Hallelujah, nevertheless. So grateful that those are the only words I need. For my handful of heartache and questions, I have an infinite amount of hallelujahs.
I trust you Lord.