Mad

Lord, I confess that I am often mad at You,
When I can't see what it is You are up to,
I get angry when I see others gripped in pain,
That no words of a preacher can really explain,
I get mad when the cancer disease takes away,
Those we love and can't hold for another day,
I get mad when things get obscured from view,
When I wonder what next You are going to do,
I get mad when death steals away too premature,
When doubts arise and Your word seems unsure,
I get mad when good people suffer in such sorrow,
When weeping endures with each and every tomorrow,
I know the enemy sows these seeds of anger inside me,
Blinding me in rage until Your goodness I cannot see,
I know this anger is self destructive to my weary soul,
That You alone can heal the hurts and make me whole,
I know that You are good - Your ways are faithful and true,
Why have these things become so clouded from my view,
Yes, I am angry because I am frail and can't understand,
What You have proposed and what all You have planned,
So I lay my anger down completely at Your glorious feet,
Believing You to sanctify and make me wholly complete,
I no longer will live mad, angry, and bitter toward You,
When Your last chapter is not done -You are not through.

This poem was inspired by a conversation I recently had with a suffering saint that loves God but cannot understand the sorrows of life. I think we have all been at this same place at one point or another. I do not throw stones for I know I have been in this place myself from time to time. Even in these seasons I believe God's grace is sufficient and He brings us through to victory. Press on dear ones. Press on until the light of God's glory breaks the dreadful clouds that hang over your life right now.