Am I? Part I

If you don't know me, you'll realize very quickly, from reading my posts, I'm swift on the emotional gun, while not always sure what I'm aiming at.

This last week has been incredibly difficult, though you probably wouldn't know it if you saw me. I tend to keep things in and allow them to simmer for a while. Oh, I let off steam when talking to my wife or friends, and they are usually gracious listening to my frustrations; sometimes they even correct me. Friends who are willing to correct you are dear friends, indeed; even if you feel like smacking them at the time.

The other night, a friend was finally able to produce a show she had been working on for months. The show was selflessly created for Kristie and I and our adoption process. Not only did she work so hard at getting bands to come and perform, dancers to choreograph, and food and goods to sell, but we also had many other friends come to support us and help out! I am so incredibly indebted to them. 

There were some snags along the way, of which I will not elaborate. But let me say I was disappointed in some of the musical guests who came that night. Culminating from the prior week of drama from the adoption process and work-related issues, I was completely worn out by the end of Friday night. While outside the facility, packing our van, I stopped and thought about my frustrations and prayed.

“God,” I said as a worshipful reminder, “you’re my God.”

I pray this often, as it encourages me knowing He is there with me when I’m struggling (He’s there when I’m not, too, but I struggle more often than not). Friday night, however, I heard a response… and it struck me hard.

“God, you’re my God.”

“AM I?” a still small voice spoke. I couldn’t tell you what direction it came from, but I heard it clear as my own voice (but it wasn’t my voice).

“Yes,” I replied with a sense of trepidation and mild encouragement.

“Then why don’t you act like it?”