So I had a God freak-out yesterday. That’s what I call it when my feelings and emotions bubble over and I have to vent to the Lord. And yes, it can get ugly, but releasing all that rage, all that stress, all that depression, all that anxiety, all that worry and fear, is cathartic.
Sounds cliche, but I soaked my pillow with tears. Not even kidding.
God freak-outs happened in the Bible too, ya know. Moses freaked out when God called him to fight Pharaoh, telling the Lord five times that he couldn’t do it. David was on the run from King Saul for years, and you KNOW he wasn’t all sunshine-and-roses about it. Job bemoaned the day he’d been born. Even Elijah, as powerful and snarky as he was (1 Kings 18:27), and after one of the greatest miracles in the Old Testament (1 Kings 18:18-39), told God to kill him. To kill him!
Yeah, Elijah freaked out, man. So did Jesus in the Garden. He knew He came to earth to die for mankind, but at the last second before His arrest, was sweating blood because He was so stressed.
It happens.
Sometimes I spit anger through sweat and gritted teeth, shaking my fist at the heavens. Yesterday, however, I cried. And cried and cried and cried.
Ya see, I haven’t been sleeping well since my chronic pain took a turn for the worst about a month ago. My legs and feet started going numb and tingling, and it’s quickly escalated. Now I’m looking at my third back surgery.
I’m sure you know that feeling when your legs fall asleep and are starting to wake up. You remember the awful tingling when your skin is crawling and feels electric, and you don’t want anyone to touch you? That’s the way my legs and feet feel all the time. It’s maddening.
I spoke to the neurosurgeon this week, and he said in addition to the many debilitating issues in my spine which I already knew about, I have multiple bulging and eroding discs, the curvature in my spine is much more severe than I thought (and way more crooked than my last x-ray almost 25 years ago), and a pinched nerve.
My average night’s sleep the last two weeks has been about three hours, so I took a nap yesterday. When I woke up 50 minutes later, I was still extremely tired, and my legs were so weak and tingly that I couldn’t sit up. So I just laid there, put in my earbuds and started listening to my Spotify “worship music” playlist.
After hearing multiple songs in a row about “dead bones coming back to life,” I started to cry. And I kept crying for about an hour.
It was weird, but it felt SO GOOD to release all that CRAP from my spirit. Oh MAN it felt good.
I was in the bedroom and my wife Laura was in the front room, so I sent her a text, saying, “I’ve been trying to get up for an hour and can’t. I need help.”
She replied, “Just get up, silly! Come on in, I’m watching ‘Gilmore Girls’.”
I said, “No, I mean I literally can’t get up. I guess my body is too weak and tired. I need help, physically.”
I didn’t have the strength, so being the mind-blowingly awesome wife she is, Laura came to the bedroom and helped me.
I’m now using walkers and canes to walk, and I move slow as molasses. The numbness, pain and tingling in my legs and feet never goes away, and that’s infuriating, to be honest.
Thus, my God freak-out.
I know this is part of His plan. I know I’m going through the fires of pain so I can be refined. I know this is spiritual warfare training for the battles to come. I know suffering has an expiration date. I know “God’s got this” and “I can do all things through Christ.”
But none of that makes it any easier. I’m frustrated and I’m tired. I’m in pain and I’m stressed. I’m limited in my mobility and I’m NOT happy about it.
I’m also doubly blessed and highly favored. I’m a Prince of Heaven (since God is the King and I, like you, am His child). Like Job, my name has been the subject of conversation in eternal palaces (see the biblical book of Job, chapters one and two).
While I’m by no means perfect, and hate even comparing myself to Job, I feel God has asked the devil…
“Have you considered my servant, Rob?”
And God knew I’d never turn on Him. He knew I’d follow Him all through this life and right into the next. He knew I’d always worship Him, no matter what happens to me. He knew I’d hold on to my faith with a death grip, even though I’m going through hell.
He has full confidence in me, and that gives me strength.
Spiritually, I’m the least of these, to be certain. I can’t give God much, just all of me.
Forever.
That doesn’t mean I don’t freak out every now and again, but You and me, Jesus…
We got this.
Broken People 