An April Fool?

The cold wind is roaring outside this morning near St. Charles, Missouri and I feel like an old fool. Just yesterday it was sunny and warm and today feels like a cruel joke. “Silly Margaret. You thought morels (mushrooms) would be popping up. Nope!” Nature has a way of confounding us–perplexing us. One moment there is peace and sunlight; the next, wind and trauma.

But nature often feels like a reflection of my own tainted heart. The storm inside of me has been raging. I’ve been working so hard to quell it with little success. I find little moments of peace and serenity only to see them shattered when the wind picks up.

My husband is yelling again because he can’t find the saltshaker. My boss is lecturing me because my work is too thorough and precise. A sudden hurricane of Lego’s has erupted in my living room because my son is in a fit of rage over a project that isn’t coming together the way he wants. My granddaughter is screaming because her television program stopped. I stand in the whirlwind and wonder how to keep my temper from flaring. I wonder where the sunshine is. And frankly, I’m angry it’s hiding behind a thick cluster of dark clouds.

I’ve been complaining a lot and I’m ashamed. I have so much to be thankful for. The truth is, I have an incurable wound. This dark side of me refuses comfort unless it is coated in chocolate. There are people praying and begging God for my life of abundance and I’m crying over minor abuses at work and too many toys on the floor of the house I own. I seem to like collecting troubles in a heap for display while the mountain of blessings behind me goes unnoticed. What is wrong with me?

Last night I received a text asking for prayer for a friend who is suffering serious, physical agonies. Unemployed and poverty-stricken, a young woman lies suffering with an incurable ailment that causes incessant pain. Her body rejects antibiotics and pain medication so she lies in bed and wets her pillow with tears because doctors don’t know how to fix her. I have other friends who suffer the torment of loneliness and rejection. And there are many who weep over a barren womb. Last week someone asked for prayer that her current pregnancy will endure because the last one didn’t. Jesus said we will have trouble in this world and indeed we do.

Am I a fool to flee to the words of a book written thousands of years ago looking for answers? Will it address the abuse or murder of children? Will it give voice to the mundane irritancies that plague my hours and days? Will it provide hope for a future I’ve given up on? Because the truth is, my worldly dreams are mostly dead. I don’t feel like I have much to look forward to in this life.

“Behold a king will reign in righteousness, and princes will rule in justice. Each will be like a hiding place from the wind, a shelter from the storm, like streams of water in a dry place, like the shade of a great rock in a weary land.” Isaiah 32:1-2

I read those words yesterday from my wind-tossed back patio. Tree limbs were blowing around in clusters and I was holding the pages of my bible as it too tried to blow away. I stopped to think about this man, Isaiah, who wrote the words God told him to but never saw them come to fruition. What must it have felt like to live on hope and prayer and never see the words come true? Many years later the one who wrote Hebrews described several other people.

“These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledge that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. but as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore, God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city.” Hebrews 11:13-16

I am reminded again why this world is so uncomfortable. This place is not my home.

The most beautiful things of this world are but a dim and tarnished reflection of that place. And it’s not because the streets are made of gold or because the gates are made of pearls (though the bible says they are). I find that place attractive because my Father is there. My perfect Father and His Son are there waiting for me. Heaven is heaven because once there I will know perfect safety, security and joy. There will be no more tears. No more suffering. No more dark and stormy nights. No more throbbing joints or wounds that don’t heal. I suppose someone will read this and think me simple or foolish. But I believe like the Apostle Paul who wrote to the Corinthian church, “If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied.”

I’ve been crying again because I didn’t meet someone’s expectations of me. I seem to attract men that criticize me and wish to see me apologize and “improve”. Even in the church I find men who spurn a simple conversation with a woman that’s not a sister or spouse and I’ll be honest, it hurts. How many other women long for Heaven because they know that once there, they have a perfect Father who won’t abuse or neglect them? He won’t reject them for dinner that isn’t seasoned properly or tell them they’ve put on a few pounds or tell them they are ‘too emotional’. He will simply smile, open His arms, and welcome us to rest forever in His love. This goes for men too. All of us, really. He is love and He loves us.

The thing is, I am a fool. I’m a fool for Christ. He is every hope and dream fulfilled in the fullness of time. He is all that matters. May the dear reader find hope and assurance in the knowledge of Him today.