Jude

I was having another break down, temper tantrum, or what ever you want to call it.  I was sitting on the bathroom floor, crying, and praying. Not the kind of prayer that most people usually pray, though.  Today I was mad at God, and I was letting Him know it.  It seems like I’ve been breaking down and complaining to God monthly, and I’m really not proud of it.  
     
This tantrum started about a week ago.  Along with my every day problems, I had a few new ones.  I broke out with shingles, I missed my nieces wedding shower because of the shingles.  My husband, Mark, went into the hospital for a couple of days, because of congestive heart failure, that didn’t help my mood.  

We got a sweet little dog, we got him home and found out that he had worms, not the kind of worms you can get rid of with a cheap pill from the drug store.   I ended up borrowing my sons allowance to take this puppy to the vet.  Along with these little problems, we’ve had money problems, every month.  We just scratch by, barely making it.  And the last thing  was, my daughter, Liz, was going through some life problems, and I was actually aching for her.  
     
Dealing with all of this on top of dealing with my health, and Mark’s health.  Well, everything fell apart for me, a week ago and I did something that made me feel terrible.  I put a fleece before the lord.  I don’t want to say exactly what I laid before Him but it had to do with money.  Needless to say, I didn’t get what I wanted from this fleece and I was disappointed.  
     
I spent the next week mad at God, then mad at myself,  and then where I ended up; sitting on the bathroom floor, crying.  I felt like I just couldn’t take it anymore, what was God doing?  I didn’t understand.  And that scripture, that one that every one wants to throw at you when you are just about to break, “God won’t give you more than you can handle” was going through my head.  

“But why God,”  I cried “Why can’t I handle this anymore?”  I sent a text to my daughter, Christina, and I told her how I was feeling.  She called me and gave me a scripture.  I had not remembered hearing this scripture, before.  2 Corinthians 1:8, “We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about the hardships we suffered in the province of Asia.  We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life.  Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death.  But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead.  He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and He will deliver us.  On Him we have set our hope that He will continue to deliver us, as you help us by your prayers.” 
     
Then, today, I got my message from God, and the message was, “Jude.”
     
Jude is that little puppy I had mentioned.  Sweet, black with a few tufts of white hair, and so loving.  I took him to get his shots today.  Later today Jude was in such pain, I could hardly stand to see him that way.  I called the vet and she said to give him some children’s pain medicine.  

I ran out to get the medicine and when I got home with it, I put some into a teaspoon and offered it to Jude.  He took a lick and turned his head.  I tried again to give it to him and again he turned his head.  Finally, Mark held him and I put the medicine in his mouth.  He swallowed it!  Then he slowly limped over to the bedroom door, weary, he sat there looking at my husband and myself.  The look on his face, must have been the same look God saw on my face a week ago when I laid a fleece before him.
     
Mark called him, “Jude, come.”  I called him, “Jude, come.”  but he just sat there giving us that look, the look that said, “Why.”  

It was then, that I realized how much I hurt God!  The look on Jude’s face said it all, “Why did you do this to me?  You must hate me!”  The same way that I had been feeling about God.  But all I could feel for that tiny dog was, love.  And it all became clear to me, God, also, loved me.  And what did I do?  Put a fleece before Him.
     
Then I remembered the scripture that Christina had shared with me, and that made God’s message, complete.  My life isn’t perfect, but I’m not the only one suffering and that suffering doesn’t mean that God doesn’t love me, it means that he loves me so much he is willing to do the hard stuff for me so that I can become a healthy adult Christian, in spirit and body.  
     
I guess the next thing to do is to learn to depend on God, as 2 Corinthians 1:9 says.  I also need to ask God for His forgiveness and I have to remember that God always loves me, in the good times and in the bad!