Even through the storms, God is with me

Sometimes my emotions feel like oceans threatening to permeate their boundaries – spilling over into my dreams, my motivation levels, and my quiet moments. I know God is in ultimate control of my life, but I still feel lost when I look at every wrong move I make and every closed door. Parts of me that I refined perfectly for that last job interview lay in disarray like tossed-aside pieces of untapped potential.

Rejected.
Incapable.
Astray.

I’m led down roads of empty promises, eliminated opportunities, and an endless supply of rejection emails.

“We’ve decided to move on with someone else,” replays like a broken record. Feelings of desperation and despair mingle with envy of “someone else’s” offer letter.

I’ve never wanted to be “someone else” so badly.

Maybe I would have been the first choice if I had said something differently– or perhaps if I had highlighted a different experience, I wouldn’t have been crossed off. 

I blame myself for past mistakes. 

I blame myself for my current inadequacies. 

And I blame myself for all the faults I have yet to make.

Maybe I’m going the wrong way. I keep taking lefts when I should have taken a right. And now my re-route is taking me the long way around. Or maybe my destination isn’t where I should be headed. Perhaps I’m called for a different path—a different purpose.

But my earthly flesh wants to scream in pain. In fear. In confusion.

How do I pay my bills? 

How will I weather this storm that could only get worse?

I know God says not to worry. But I do.

I worry about not getting a job. I worry about losing my apartment. I worry about taking three steps back for every step forward.

In Matthew 6, it says God provides for the birds of the air and clothes the lilies of the fields. If He values their existence, how much more does he value me?

25 “Therefore I say to you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? 

26 Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? 

31“Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 

32 For after all these things, the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. 

33 But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness first, and all these things shall be added to you. 

God knows what I need, yet he also knows when to take away and when to provide. Six months ago, when I lost my job, I felt my entire life be stripped away. But God knew exactly what he was doing when he allowed my only source of income to be torn down. Because as I felt this significant portion of my life be ripped from my fingertips, God guided my hands to long for something I had been neglecting for years– my relationship with Him.

God may have taken my job away, but He gave me my life back. He provided my soul with a home and a place of rest when I’m run weary.

After a storm, there is unnerving destruction. The kind you wish you could unknow and unsee.

Tears.
Sorrow.
A longing for what used to be.

But after the rubble clears, there is room for new growth—a clean slate to rebuild with better foundations. The pain and discomfort we endure through the storms will refine us into the person God has equipped us to be.

Sometimes storms are necessary to expand and flourish our hearts, minds, and spirits. Without the occasional removal of old understructures, we may never be able to freely detach ourselves from former ways of thinking that no longer serve us.

I often find myself wishing away this stormy season of my life. I’m ready for the winds to stop their resistance and the rain to lighten up. I want to feel the sun on my skin again– and breathe in the after-rain air.

But then I think– how much sweeter will the sun feel after knowing the darkness for so long? Without the rugged parts of life, we risk taking the raw beauty of the blessings around us for granted.

So even though my flesh may cry out in the middle of the night, my soul sings and rejoices for the light that is promised to those who seek the kingdom of God.