As much as I wish I were mysterious, the odds are you can predict my thoughts and actions nine times out of ten. I’m incredibly cliché and super easy to read.
However, every once in awhile I discover something that surprises even myself. (It's sad how much joy I find in being unexpected, but it's those rare moments that keep my dream of being edgy and mysterious alive. :))
I’ve spent the last decade subtly angry with God.
I love God… like, a lot. But a few months ago I was surprised to realize there was an unspoken issue I’ve had subtle anger about for years.
When I was little, I used to go to sleep begging God to reveal himself to Emma in her dreams so she could understand Jesus in a way that made sense to her. I knew God heard my prayers, which is why I could never understand how every morning I’d ask Emma if she had any dreams, she would shake her head no.
And so subtle resentment began to settle…
Why in the world would God not answer my prayers to reveal himself to Emma? I didn't understand.
It seems funny I repetitively prayed the same request so many years over never to see a result, but I figured if I were as persistent as that widow in the Bible, maybe God would answer me.
As each year passed, Emma never had one of those dreams I kept hoping for.
So this year I just let God know – I’m pretty mad and really disappointed he never revealed himself to Emma.
His response? An incredibly gentle nudge: “Kirsti, look at Emma. Do you truly think I haven’t answered your prayers; that I haven’t revealed myself to her? How else did she turn out to be so full of life and joy? How else, if not that I’ve revealed something higher than man’s acceptance to her? I have revealed myself to her. I’ve revealed a reality of love to her many will never understand.”
Emma started at a new school this year and her teen age is in full swing. She’s annoyed with boys, wants space from her parents, and constantly wishes she could wear 4" heels. Her teenage kick has included lots of frustration – especially concerning boys.
The most recent issue has been one at school who won’t talk to her. Every day we debrief, it’s no surprise when she brings up Ben. And regardless of how many times we discuss potential reasons why he may not be talking to her, she’s never satisfied.
Last month I got a call from Emma at 8:43am, which caught me off guard since I knew the school day hadn’t even begun and didn’t know what she could want.
Emma: “Hi Kirsti. Ben is doing it again… not talking to me.
You pray for me?”
That was it. That’s all she called for. I prayed, she said thanks, and then promptly hung up.
I sprained my ankle two weeks ago (I legit tripped on air… #clutzymutzy). Emma called me last week simply to ask how it was and then pray over me.
Now, she’s not preaching sermons and she still loses her temper, but I just want to note: God’s at work in Emma.
It may seem unsubstantial, but these are important moments to me because they fuel hope – they inspire me to press on in areas I don’t see an answer.
God surprised me. I thought I could predict his moves and had given up hope, just to find he’s been speaking to her all along.