Shaking my fist at the sky

Yes, I'm calling God bad names.

So I went to bed, all prepared to snuggle with my honey, and That Man was snoring. Why is it that gross things have to come out of one end or the other with him and ruin my plans for the night?

And then as I was doing a little fantasizing about how fabulous I'm going to be when I grow up, God gave me a little message. I need to tell the story of Ronald Reese. Crap. I'd forgotten all about him. I knew him when I was 9 years old. Hello... do we know how long ago that was? What could it possibly have to do with me and what God wants me to do with my life? Apparently, more than I realized. Crap. Crap. Crap.

Have I said crap yet?

If you look at the time stamp on this post, it is the REAL time here. Past 3 am, and what am I doing? I'm writing on THE BOOK. Can I sleep? No. Am I going to regret it in the morning? God, could I remind you that I have a toddler, a preschooler, a dog, AND I have to go to work when That Man gets home. Plus, I have critique on Friday and I don't have anything ready to bring, which is what I'd planned on working on this evening and tomorrow. But what does God want me to do? Work on this stupid, icky, rotten, yucky, miserable book that is tearing at my guts and forcing me to go places I don't want to go.

Heather, if you're laughing, I will so go down there and kick your butt. I'm serious.

All I have to say is that God better reward me for my faithfulness here. I'd be happy with not being exhausted and dragging all day tomorrow. Can we manage that, please?

That man is going to get up for work soon. He's going to see me sitting here with the laptop, shake his head like I've really and truly lost it (which I have). He's really gonna think I'm nuts when he reads what I've written thus far. (And yes, I'm still working on it, so don't EVEN accuse me of procrastinating. I'm processing. I'm at 12 pages for the night, so THERE). You know the good thing about my husband finally realizing he married a lunatic-I can go live in the loony bin, have my meals brought to me on a little tray, and not have to clean up explosive diarrhea from either the dog or the kid (Did I mention The Dog is also having issues with it?).

I will say, in God's defense, not like He needs one, since He's perfect and all that, but some really cool stuff did come out of all this (I came back and edited... on 14 pages now).

I am so freaking tired. Lord, are you really sure you want me to do this? I am so not churchy. You know, I'm even scared posting this crap for fear that some churchy person is going to come smack me. Churchy people don't say crap, you know. So here is the rough draft of the last couple paragraphs of what I'm working on. I'll post it and then try and catch a few winks before rodentia wakes up and starts taking apart her crib again.

Jesus is in my heart, healing me from all the pain. He is healing the wounds that have plagued me for so long. Tonight, in my husband’s touch, I found something new, something exciting and tender, that spoke to the longings of my heart. Jesus made me whole again, and I can enjoy the love of my husband. Not from the emptiness of longing, but from the fullness of knowing that Christ dwells inside me.

I think of how amazing it is that I am able to have such a relationship with the LORD. I love my study of the Old Testament right now, because I see just how difficult it was to remain pure enough to be in the temple, in the presence of the LORD. And yet now, He now dwells in me. His presence is with me always. But you know what’s cool… back then, the people thought they needed the temple to be with God. But they didn’t. Not really. Not if you look closely at what God says in Joshua 1:9.

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go."

Yes, He’s talking to Joshua here, but I think it’s also a message for the people, if only they have the faith to believe. Here’s the really cool part, though. It says here in Matthew 17:20

"He replied, "Because you have so little faith. I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you."

Just the thought of having such little faith, and yet having the ability to be able to do so much… it’s astonishing to me. Astonishing, but in a beautiful way. The kind that takes my breath away because it’s so incredible.

I know I don’t deserve God’s mercy and grace. I have such a hard time giving it to myself. Why would anyone else? Yet God does, over and over. As many times as I stumble, screw up, and even blatantly thumb my nose at Him, He says, "it’s okay, Baby, I still love you."

I’m just sitting here, feeling the fullness of His love, so amazed, so humbled, and… wow.