A couple of months ago, God gave me a vision. I won’t bore you with the details, but I will tell you that there was no doubt in my head it was from God. It was one of those, can’t sleep, wake-you-up-in-the-night kind of visions. The kind that you finally get up and make a list of all the reasons why it can’t work—and you come up with 3 pages full.
But there’s still a voice, whispering, saying, “What if?” What if you took a risk? What if it doesn’t make sense? What if I have been growing this passion in your heart "for such a time as this?"
But it was such a stretch. It totally didn’t make sense. Regardless, I acted on it. I pursued it—knowing that it would probably never take flight.
And this was big for me. As far as I’ve come in the last few years, I still live a lot of my life fear-based. BUT, I felt like I HAD to be obedient to pursue it—acknowledging to those around me that it was crazy.
And, while I wish this could be a story of how God blessed that obedience and made everyone around me jump on this crazy idea, He didn’t. And I was disappointed. And truthfully, angry as well.
Disappointed that I didn’t persuade anyone with my eloquence (ha!) to take a huge leap. Disappointed that this passion that I felt like He had been building in me, no longer had the outlet I had envisioned. Even disappointed that I was angry.
Initially, I thought hte anger was at people. After a talk-through with a friend who refused to let me wallow and called me out on my petty-ness, I realized my real anger was at God.
Why would He put such a clear vision in my heart and mind if it were not going to happen? Why would He allow me to put myself out there in a risky way, knowing that when it didn’t turn out the way I had hoped, I would probably hold a grudge? Why now, when I was on a roll before this happened and this only served to slow down my momentum?
It took me back to the time when I prayed fervently for the life of our friend of mine’s baby. And I truly believed He would heal her and there would be this miracle story about how she was saved because God heard all the prayers going up on her behalf. But He didn’t heal her, and on her 2 month birthday, she entered heaven.
I remember feeling so betrayed by Him. How could he allow me to believe He was good and that He wanted to answer my prayers? I wish I could say that I have figured out what He wanted me to learn out of both of those situations, but I can’t. This is like one of those books you read that doesn’t end with the pretty red bow.
But it doesn’t mean it’s a bad book. In fact, it’s often intriguing. And it makes you want to read it again.
The anger is gone and while there is still some disappointment, it’s not something that is consuming me--it's pretty small for now, at least (that may change in a few hours or days).
Funny thing is, I still don’t doubt the vision was from Him. And I still don’t know what that means. And I may never. But, for now, I’m okay with that.