I realized today, as I have a cold, that I don’t have any Kleenex in my car. I used to have a box of Kleenex in my car at all times. Because I would so often cry – sob – while I was driving, when I got somewhere, while I was waiting… I would have to pull over because I was crying too hard to drive. Often, I would just keep driving even though I was crying too hard to drive, because who knew when I’d be able to stop. It might be hours. I had fallen in the pit and who knew when I’d be coming out. I’ve heard people say that you can only cry for a couple of hours. Not true. Hours and hours. So long that even while I was sobbing like I would never stop, I’d have to keep doing mundane tasks – cooking, cleaning, working at the computer, driving, laundry – because otherwise my life would stop.
I haven’t done that in almost a year. Part of me is so thankful to God that he has apparently healed me (with the help of medication, which I’m fine with). The rest of me is so angry that I ever had to go through that. How dare God let me feel that hopeless? That kind of despair? It was more than I could handle – and don’t try to tell me that God doesn’t give people more than they can handle, because I couldn’t handle that. I survived, but it was too much. I have scars. How can a loving God let someone suffer that much – in a silent hidden way that other people can’t understand?
Fortunately, I can ask these questions, even if I don’t get answers. I haven’t been struck by lightning yet, so I doubt it will happen. In the meantime, I’ll keep wrestling with God, even if he dislocates my hip. (Or whatever that was that he did to Jacob).