Crawling Out From Under the Rock

I've been getting pounded with sad news lately.  Yesterday, yet another friend told me she is very ill, there is no cure, and it's going to get ugly.  (that's a paraphrase!)  She also said 'I guess I just haven't done enough things right in my life'. 
I didn't give her a 'Jesus will fix it' line, and I'm not going to give you one.  I'll tell you what it has taken me 7 1/2 years to learn.  God isn't going to fix it.  He can, but He doesn't owe you diddly crap, and He doesn't owe me diddly crap.  It's not how it works.
He didn't cause it, either.  Could He have intervened?  Yep.  Can He still?  Yep.  Does it have anything to do with how hard you pray, how good you are, or how much you give?  Nope.  He's God; we're not; that's it. 
I spent a few years absolutely livid over this.  God just patiently sat with me in my hissy fit, silent as can be.  He wasn't mad at me, either.  I believe He was angry...with all the horrible things that had happened...but not with me.  But He promised not to break a bruised reed, and He didn't.  (Isaiah 42:3)  Have you ever tried to break a reed off?  Not a dried up one that snaps, but a really healthy one?  They're awful.  You just twist them and turn them and strip off a few layers and yank and cuss them out and then twist again, until all the juice is running out the sides but the darn thing just stays attached.  It's maddening!   But that's the reed that God's not going to break, or allow anyone else to.  It's not something that's been neatly knocked over by a strong wind.  It's a mauled up mess that would, frankly, be better off mowed or cut off or something.  But it just hangs on. 
I would say during that long period of my life, God would dump water on me now and then so I couldn't die.  Sometimes He'd send someone else to do it, but years later I think I just see Him sitting there with a misting bottle, squirting me the tiny amounts I could take.  Sometimes I screamed and shook it all off, but sometimes there was no fight, and I'd just let it soak in because I couldn't do anything else. 
At some point I think my friends and family took a stick and propped me up.  Stupid stick.  I didn't want to get up.  A better plan was that I turned into some type of creeping vine that grew up the side of a rock.  I could throw out a tendril here and there, but mostly stay under the rock.  If someone steps on me, it rubs off all my leaves, but it doesn't hurt the rock, so I can creep up again when I feel safe.  Which isn't as often as you might think. 
So, without insulting your intelligence, let me tell you that God's the rock.  He's staying, He's protecting, but we do have to crawl out from under Him from time to time.  Just remember He doesn't have the same kind of timeline people do.  He sees the heart, He knows the pain, and He's very patient and protective.    I personally hope He  hurls Himself at a few people's windshields...or skulls, but I suspect it's not the plan. 
If you have experienced this life-altering type of pain... and you're waiting to feel normal again...Um, goodluckwiththat.  Sorry.  I'll never be the person I was before.  I'm still me...I can still 'present as normal' but truly truly,  I don't miss that person.  She was ignorant and arrogant...fearless, yes, but probably to the point of stupidity. 
When I learned how to see in the dark after being under the rock for so long, I realized there is a huge community of people down there.  Some I'd never seen before.  Some I saw every day, I just didn't get it that they were only on the top side for a visit.  We kind of wink at each other now...and promise to meet under the rock later.
If you're under the rock;  Hey.  How's it going? 
If you never have been, consider shutting up.   Work at not bruising more reeds.