What I Need God For

"God is not in this for half-baked. He didn't give us the cake box in order to stare at it."

I typed forward. God backspaced. Don’t backspace. Those were my thoughts! That was what I had to say. I slammed the lid shut. I don’t need it all anyway. Which is not true. I am a writer. I have to write. Even my most personal thoughts are only fully formed when I can see them. And actually, I often delete them myself, but those are MY DELETIONS. Those, today, were God’s, and they are gone now. Except He knows them, and sometimes, will repeat them. Other times, He won’t. I have to live with it.

I have a thought that I refuse to write. I do this often, actually, in order to retain control. I’m not in control, but it feels like I am, and my selfishness is satisfied. I’ll forget it in time, which also satisfies me. Yeah, like I said, He remembers, but … TAKE THAT, God! I don’t remember it. My pettiness doesn’t alter Him at all. I made this picture for someone. When my life was at its darkest, I’d go on all these mental wandering side trips. I’m out in Nepal somewhere in my thought life. Then I’d wake up and realize God hadn’t moved. At all. Not one inch. An hour later, I’m doing it again. I’m going across the earth in my head, trying to figure out and solve this issue. I’m trippin’ over demons … I hate that word. People are scared of it. Don’t be. … but anywho, I’m off somewhere in my head again, then God speaks, and the room returns around me. God is the same today, as He was yesterday, and He will be tomorrow.

He isn’t applying the pressure. I am. Just knowing He’s there and He’s listening and He’s way out ahead of me makes me need to run. Or slam lids. Knowing He’s right, and I’m wrong is both a relief and a hodgepodge. I want God to always be right. And just and truth and honest. But it means me facing me and not liking the image. Especially when I’m good at something. I’m a good writer. This is what I do. I don’t need help with it. I can do it from start to finish – the writing, editing, cover art, formatting, publishing. What I can’t do, that I need God for is the selling, the promoting. And, yes, I deliberately wrote it that way. WHAT I NEED GOD FOR. What I don’t.

God is not in this for half-baked. He didn’t give us the cake box in order to stare at it, or open it and sniff, or mix it and set it aside. He actually wanted it made and iced and passed out to strangers. We wanted vanilla. He wanted chocolate. We made a face then shrugged and baked it anyway. Both scenarios are us-over-Him when it should be Him-over-us. This is a marriage. There is no compromise with the devil. We’re either all in or we’re not. Six days a week aren’t for ourselves and just the seventh for God. We’ll come to the party but let us pick out our own dress. Or we won’t. We’ve bought new pasture and want to work it. We’re in this new job relationship and ought to spend time with it.

This looks like the devil in that person. So I’ll post that on social media.

It will surprise you what God will say when you sit down and listen. I’m always asking why He told me that. Maybe you’re more nosy, but I’m just not. Neither is my mother, so I came by it honest. I don’t need to know why you’re moving to Upper Slobobia, unless you want me to pray over it. Mom invented Slobobia too. And taught me not to be nosy. Like God. He isn’t nosy. He’s all-knowing, and we’re resentful of it, until we’re not. In that hard place, stuck between pins and needles, we’re grateful and willing to cry masses. Would that we’d hear Him in the smooth spots, in the valleys by the stream, petting the sheep.

“God’s kingdom of love is like a king who prepared a wedding feast for his son. When those who had received an invitation failed to come, he sent messengers asking them to come, but they refused. So he sent more messengers, instructing them, ‘Tell those I invited that I have prepared a great banquet: the meats have been roasted and the tables set—the meal is ready. Come to the wedding feast.’ But they ignored the messengers and went about their own interests: one went to supervise their fields, another to their business.” (Matthew 22:2-5 Remedy)

Image by Noshin Naz from Pixabay


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Suzanne D. Williams, Author
www.suzannedwilliams.com
www.feelgoodromance.com