Bitter vs Better

For the first six to seven months following Faith's funeral, I did not once enter a sanctuary for worship.

I work at a church. I needed to intentionally drive to, and enter into, that building nearly every single day. The things I was thinking and the mess I was harboring inside, left me feeling unworthy of being within the walls of its Holiness. At least that's what I thought. But in reality, that is the building’s exact purpose. Church is intended to be the place the messy are welcome to come to find the Holy. It is not the place put-together people come after they have figured out their messy.

Over the course of those months, I did physically enter the sanctuary for job related tasks, but I still would not allow myself to enter in and actually "worship" inside that room, it was just too sacred, too Holy, too intense. I would listen to the sermons every week as I sat out in the fellowship hall, desperately trying to not hear, but the words would still always seep in. I would stand at the back windows and look in, watching the people, the pastor, knowing the spirit of it all... but I just could not bring myself to enter in to worship.

I was just too bitter, too lost, too angry, too sad, too raw, and too utterly guilt ridden for feeling all that bitterness, lostness, anger, and sadness. I carried such big emotions of anger and resentment towards God during that time, which in turn filled me with confusion and great guilt. I was on “processing overload,” which basically shut me down entirely, leaving me emotionally numb.

I knew that I knew God was in control, and God did ultimately love me.
I just desperately did not want to love Him back anymore. I felt He had failed me, He had hurt me, He was choosing a different path for my journey than what I wanted for myself.

It left me in a constant battle between the savior in my soul and the devil in my mind.

That hurricane of unstable emotion would not allow me to enter and embrace that special place where I knew God dwelled. I could not sing - the words too hard to ingest, the tears too hard to fight back. I could not open my Bible or go further than Psalm 23. A year and a half earlier Psalm 23 was the passage God gave me for the year... for thee entire year. Every day, it was the passage I held, I read, I memorized, I laid in bed and prayed through.  "The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want... He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul..." As I had entered the start of the next new year, I had tried to find my next passage to move on to, but oddly, I just felt the continued draw to stay in Psalm 23. It would soon turn to be the passage that would ultimately carry me through the months and season God had been preparing it in my heart for.

I forcefully pushed God away again and again, holding Him firmly at arms length away.  I was willing Him, daring Him, challenging Him, to both never let me go AND to just shove me entirely out of His favor and grace once and for all.

Had I not been a church staff employee during that season of my life, I can’t help but wonder if I would have turned from God and walked away entirely, never to turn, never to return. Thank goodness God orchestrated me filling that position, clearly another preparation that He started years earlier in my life, to help ultimately carry me through the months and seasons God knew were coming.

So I continued coming to work, coming to "church." I continued showing up, basically because I had an obligation of required tasks I needed to accomplish, not because I actually wanted to. God also continued showing up, and patiently waiting for me to return.

During the day I would walk by the classroom where I sat alone at the table on the conference call with the genetic counselor and my husband and got the fateful news of Faith's initial diagnose. I would drive out the driveway and turn at the sign where my first fire towards God hit shortly after that diagnose. The same exact place the following day God gave me the theme song I needed to get me through that season... He Is With Us by Love and the Outcome.

I would walk by the bulletin board where I had the initial conversation with my friend and co-worker in my anger, as I paced and spat and tried processing the words I need to figure out how to tell this story well, because it is not about me.  If God supposedly works everything for good, I had the revelation I needed to figure out how to share this story well, because this was not something good for me. This could only be good for someone else. I was going to just stay and simmer in my bitterness forever.  (It would take a long time before I allowed Him to start revealing how this was actually good for my very own life.)

I would walk by the center isle of the sanctuary, where hands were laid on and prayers were given over me and little Faith for her miracle healing... which never happened. I had never honestly believed she would be, and I felt confusion and guilt over my lack of faith. I believe in miracles, I just also knew Faith was not going to be one of them.

This went on for months. The entire spring, summer, and fall season I sat in my bitterness.

I kept showing up at work, and God kept patiently waiting... until one day, I finally decided I needed to try figure out if I was going to continue the rest of my life trapped and stuck in that season of bitter, or if I was going to intentionally try figure out how to forgive God and take steps forward on the journey toward a season of healing and better.  I was bitter, and I was exhausted.  I had no idea what to do to try get better.

Bitter is the easy avenue to pick, the easy place to park our woes and stay stuck in. We can justify it to ourselves and to others as we point our blame outward at God and the world.

Better is hard, better I found is a much bigger mountain to climb. Better is having to turn those assuming and accusing fingers inward and not at God any longer. Better is having to embrace intentionality, forgiveness, processing, growth, relinquishment of all control, choosing to take steps forward even when your feet refuse to move.

I dove into books, conversations, prayers, Bible studies, scriptures, more conversations, coffee dates, moments of silence, moments of rest, moments of chaos, embracing, investing, and growing deep and honest friendships. I began to really listen to the whispers of change and refinement God was asking of me. I turned my focus inward, I turned my questions upside-down, I turned my attention and devotion upward.  It was a painfully slow and hard process.

None of it has, is, or ever will be easy. It's a process I will never finish, a place I will never fully arrive at while on this earth. It's a "deny my cross daily and choose Jesus" mentality that some days I'm almost a rockstar at, and some days (ok most days if I'm honest) I'm an utter failure at. But I am loved by God and many others, and I have been granted continual grace in my journey, which in turn has allowed me to extend grace and love to a degree I've never experienced before with those around me.

I consciously try view my life, my circumstances, my relationships, my encounters every day differently than I did a year ago. I try simply to be fully aware, fully present. Intentionally try find the good, see the God, in the situations and life unfolding within and around me.

I’ve heard the quote “Sometimes when things are falling apart, they are actually falling into place…" We all have the choice to stay bitter, or the choice to become better. I realize it's not an either / or, black / white answer - it's a rich mix of intentionally choosing better to help get us beyond our bitter in the journeys God sets for our lives.

Bitter and better will always go hand in hand, they will always be a sticky peanut butter and jelly type mixture spread over and coating our lives... We will always have the choice of how long, how deep, how hurtful, how painful, we allow our bitter to seep and stay.  Or we can choose how we will allow it to prune us into something better, something richer, something deeper.

God intentionally gives us "bitter" as an avenue to help accomplish our greatest potentials.  I believe God wants us to all become the best "betters" we can be... so He continues to sprinkle in the trials, storms, tribulations, and bitterness for us to experience and cycle through.

He wants us to learn to find comfort in our uncomfort and embrace and name our bitter.  To know it's His intention, not His punishment to work in this way in us.  It's Him drawing us closer to Him while He's refining us into a bigger and better version of our current selves.