I've just finished listening to Rob Bell's "Weak is the New Strong" teaching. Funny how the way God works is so backwards from the way we want to live life.

I think I blogged a few weeks ago about how God is teaching me to feel pain. To acknowledge that life is often painful and I don't know how to fix it; I can never put the bandaid on without getting the sticky parts stuck together.

The past few days I have been desperately trying to figure out what is wrong with me and why I have such a struggle with my church. I keep looking for that magic thing I just need to do or stop doing to find the answers, to stop feeling the acute pain that comes from me swinging the sword that I am afraid may be swinging at me.

Yesterday was rough, but good. Saturday night, I sent an email to my youth pastor attempting to articulate the depths of my confusion, trying to sort out this magic formula of the problem. I spent a lot of time yesterday trying to get some answer from God as to what I need to do, a pat answer. Ironically, this formulation theory was the only thing I could throw at my anger towards my church in some attempt of labeleing.

But as I sat, curled up in my chair, listening to the quiet music from David Crowder, I just let the tears fall. For the first time, I honestly gave it to God. I sat their crying, telling Abba how much these wounds from my past hurt and how my attempts to bulldoze them and keep going just weren't working. I had simply asked him to give me some kind of peace, some sign that I was accepted, even though i couldn't figure out what my stupid problem was.

This morning, I woke up with this strange nagging, that I was going to waste another day trying to sort through the equations to find the formula. I had these plans for my day, these ideas of what I needed to get done, and at the top was this expectation that I needed to talk to God and read his word, but not really because I wanted to, but becuase I knew in my mind that it needed to be done. It hit me, as I stood before my mirror, dressing after the scheduled shower, that I felt like God had left me alone and I deserved to be alone becuase all this pain I was feeling was the result of my stubborn will to be right and the it was the church's fault that they weren't living up to whatever I think they should be.

What a lie. What a beautiful gift of grace that I did not live in that lie all day long. I felt alone, but I wasn't. I'm still not alone. Abba is bringing me through some seriously needed healing here and yes, it hurts. And yes, he knows it.

This struggle I am having isn't a result of me not doing something that i am supposed to me doing. Its a result of me not being able to fix myself. I am feeling the symptoms of something deeper, the root of a sickness that must be removed before I can stop feeling the pain.

I am in pain today, I have been in pain for a long time, and only Abba can fix it. He made a way so that I could be fixed. In the meantime, as I take each step through the forest and into the clearing, staring down yet another canyon, I look to my left and see guide, to my back I know its Abba holding me up, and to my right I feel Jesus holding my hand and whispering love into my ear.

Abba, don't let me forget that my weakness is in your hand this week.