I Got Mad At God
“I Got Mad at God!”
January 2025 Blog
by Pastor Bec
There’s a story told of a woman who did not believe in God.
She lived her life as a self-made woman. Went to college. Got a good job.
Got married. Had a son. Still chose not to believe in God.
Life was rolling along satisfactorily enough, until, one day, her child became very ill.
He did not get better. He ended up in the intensive care unit. In a coma.
He was declining. She became very frightened. And angry.
After another long day, of another long bedside vigil, with no response from her young son, she drove home. She pulled into her driveway, turned off the car, and began to scream at God. How could He let this happen to her son? How could He let this happen to her? She ranted and raved with a few choice expletives, until, finally, she was emptied out.
After a few minutes, God responded: Hello Child. It’s good to finally hear from you.
We smile when we hear this story. It has so much of our humanness and God’s grace in it. And what a patient Heavenly Father we have. Even when we scream at Him in anger, He’s glad to hear from us.
I’ve told people for decades, as a pastor, that God can handle our anger. That it’s good to get it out and give it to Him. He already knows how we feel, anyway, so why not share our thoughts with Him? The only thing is, I actually never did this myself.
I certainly poured out my feelings to Him, but I never felt I needed to be angry at Him.
I’ve had the pleasure of knowing Jesus personally for over half a century! (Yes, I started young.) My faith life was like a pendulum at times… swinging into a close walk with God… then swinging away again. Sometimes I went to church. Sometimes I didn’t.
After a rough time early in our marriage, my husband and I both came back into a closer walk with God, and have continued on that journey ever since.
The years passed by. I served as a pastor for twenty-five years. This was preceded by careers as a nurse educator, a critical care nurse, and full time homemaker. When I retired in June of 2024, I was ready to travel the world with my husband and spend our summers in Maine.
I wasn’t anticipating becoming very ill. I wasn’t expecting months of isolating due to a suppressed immune system. And I sure wasn’t prepared for losing power in Maine after an exceptionally cold spell, in October.
Usually, our family and friends enjoy “the lake” and time together from about June until October. People generally put their boats in Memorial Day weekend, and take them out Labor Day weekend. Also, there was always a progressive dinner party the weekend of Columbus Day. I’d always heard about it, but was never able to be there at that point. This year, we would! (But actually, we didn’t. It didn’t happen.)
I should add that I was struggling physically with an autoimmune disease, heavy steroid dosing, and the cardiac and GI side effects which went along with this. It was a very uncomfortable and challenging time. And then the power went out.
This occurred right after Hurricanes Helene and Milton had swept through Florida and the southeast. A lot of the Maine power linemen were in Florida and North Carolina when strong Canadian winds swept through our central Maine area and took out our power too. There was a big tree down, on a power line, up the dirt logging road from our place. As we drove in and out to town, we held our breaths that the power line would not sink any lower - preventing us from getting in and out.
The first day wasn’t too bad. The inside house temp didn’t go below 50. We used a propane torch to make coffee and pasta. We had warm clothes. We slept well. But then it got colder. And the toilet wouldn’t flush, so Jon had to go to the lake to get a bucket of water each morning for this important function. And then that stopped working too.
By day two, we kept hearing they would be out our way soon. Meanwhile, the house got colder. We couldn’t bathe. We had no electronics. Our words got sharper, and we were running out of things to eat. I cried out to God! I begged Him to PLEASE get our power restored! It did not happen.
By day three I was ready to leave. Jon agreed to go. And then, of course, as soon as we were packed and ready to go, the power came back on. We slowly thawed out and recovered and finished closing up camp to then leave on Thursday. Our rental truck was covered in ice the morning we were to leave. And I had to go to the bathroom. Urgently. The toilet was now winterized and unavailable. Oh no! I begged God to please help my body not go! It was no good. I had to go! So I grabbed my wool poncho, my slippers, and a roll of toilet paper and headed towards the door. Thankfully, Jon remembered a boat toilet seat cover and a 5-gallon Home Depot bucket and got it ready for me just in time. I have new respect for these items now.
Something died within me, however, and I lost the desire to meet with God in the mornings like I usually did with prayer, worship, Bible study, devotionals and journaling. I quit talking to Him throughout the day. Jon and I returned home to Florida like two homeless refugees. It took days to come around. And I was mad at God.
Why didn’t He answer my prayers? He always had before. How could He let me suffer like that. Didn’t He really care? What was my faith based on anyway?
I deluged myself with doubts and questions like these. The weeks I drew away from Him (for He never draws away from us) felt empty. After awhile, I realized I missed Him and I needed Him and I begin to find my way back. Like the Father in the Prodigal Child story, He ran out to meet me. Slowly, through His Word, devotionals, and other people, He began to show me that He had been there all along. (Yes, like “The Footprints” poem.) And yes, He did not answer those prayers. And yet He did, in His time and in His way. The suffering I endured was to serve to only make me stronger and deepen my trust in Him. It was a three-day period. The Bible has a lot of three-day examples: Jonah in the Belly of the Whale, (Yeah, that would have been way worse). And of course the tense 3-day period between Jesus’ death and resurrection! Watch out for those three day periods of trails. Don’t give up! Don’t give in to those d words: doubt, despair, discouragement, depression. Instead, fight them!
Not only don’t pull away from God, but draw closer to HIm!
It is said the apostle Peter was executed during the reign of the mad Roman emperor Nero. He wrote (or had written) his two epistles while Christians were dying for their faith. Though our trials are nowhere like theirs’, his words of encouragement to them echo down the ages to us today. So be encouraged: “… though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith - of greater worth than gold… may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.” (I Peter 1:6,7)
Our faith is more valuable than we realize!
So, yeah. Go ahead and get mad at God if you need to. He really can handle it.
But try not to leave His side, His Son, His Holy Spirit, or His Word.
It’s from here we get the peace of Christ, with which to continue the journey.
Yes, Philippians 4:6,7 “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation,
by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.
And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”
January 2025 Blog
by Pastor Bec
There’s a story told of a woman who did not believe in God.
She lived her life as a self-made woman. Went to college. Got a good job.
Got married. Had a son. Still chose not to believe in God.
Life was rolling along satisfactorily enough, until, one day, her child became very ill.
He did not get better. He ended up in the intensive care unit. In a coma.
He was declining. She became very frightened. And angry.
After another long day, of another long bedside vigil, with no response from her young son, she drove home. She pulled into her driveway, turned off the car, and began to scream at God. How could He let this happen to her son? How could He let this happen to her? She ranted and raved with a few choice expletives, until, finally, she was emptied out.
After a few minutes, God responded: Hello Child. It’s good to finally hear from you.
We smile when we hear this story. It has so much of our humanness and God’s grace in it. And what a patient Heavenly Father we have. Even when we scream at Him in anger, He’s glad to hear from us.
I’ve told people for decades, as a pastor, that God can handle our anger. That it’s good to get it out and give it to Him. He already knows how we feel, anyway, so why not share our thoughts with Him? The only thing is, I actually never did this myself.
I certainly poured out my feelings to Him, but I never felt I needed to be angry at Him.
I’ve had the pleasure of knowing Jesus personally for over half a century! (Yes, I started young.) My faith life was like a pendulum at times… swinging into a close walk with God… then swinging away again. Sometimes I went to church. Sometimes I didn’t.
After a rough time early in our marriage, my husband and I both came back into a closer walk with God, and have continued on that journey ever since.
The years passed by. I served as a pastor for twenty-five years. This was preceded by careers as a nurse educator, a critical care nurse, and full time homemaker. When I retired in June of 2024, I was ready to travel the world with my husband and spend our summers in Maine.
I wasn’t anticipating becoming very ill. I wasn’t expecting months of isolating due to a suppressed immune system. And I sure wasn’t prepared for losing power in Maine after an exceptionally cold spell, in October.
Usually, our family and friends enjoy “the lake” and time together from about June until October. People generally put their boats in Memorial Day weekend, and take them out Labor Day weekend. Also, there was always a progressive dinner party the weekend of Columbus Day. I’d always heard about it, but was never able to be there at that point. This year, we would! (But actually, we didn’t. It didn’t happen.)
I should add that I was struggling physically with an autoimmune disease, heavy steroid dosing, and the cardiac and GI side effects which went along with this. It was a very uncomfortable and challenging time. And then the power went out.
This occurred right after Hurricanes Helene and Milton had swept through Florida and the southeast. A lot of the Maine power linemen were in Florida and North Carolina when strong Canadian winds swept through our central Maine area and took out our power too. There was a big tree down, on a power line, up the dirt logging road from our place. As we drove in and out to town, we held our breaths that the power line would not sink any lower - preventing us from getting in and out.
The first day wasn’t too bad. The inside house temp didn’t go below 50. We used a propane torch to make coffee and pasta. We had warm clothes. We slept well. But then it got colder. And the toilet wouldn’t flush, so Jon had to go to the lake to get a bucket of water each morning for this important function. And then that stopped working too.
By day two, we kept hearing they would be out our way soon. Meanwhile, the house got colder. We couldn’t bathe. We had no electronics. Our words got sharper, and we were running out of things to eat. I cried out to God! I begged Him to PLEASE get our power restored! It did not happen.
By day three I was ready to leave. Jon agreed to go. And then, of course, as soon as we were packed and ready to go, the power came back on. We slowly thawed out and recovered and finished closing up camp to then leave on Thursday. Our rental truck was covered in ice the morning we were to leave. And I had to go to the bathroom. Urgently. The toilet was now winterized and unavailable. Oh no! I begged God to please help my body not go! It was no good. I had to go! So I grabbed my wool poncho, my slippers, and a roll of toilet paper and headed towards the door. Thankfully, Jon remembered a boat toilet seat cover and a 5-gallon Home Depot bucket and got it ready for me just in time. I have new respect for these items now.
Something died within me, however, and I lost the desire to meet with God in the mornings like I usually did with prayer, worship, Bible study, devotionals and journaling. I quit talking to Him throughout the day. Jon and I returned home to Florida like two homeless refugees. It took days to come around. And I was mad at God.
Why didn’t He answer my prayers? He always had before. How could He let me suffer like that. Didn’t He really care? What was my faith based on anyway?
I deluged myself with doubts and questions like these. The weeks I drew away from Him (for He never draws away from us) felt empty. After awhile, I realized I missed Him and I needed Him and I begin to find my way back. Like the Father in the Prodigal Child story, He ran out to meet me. Slowly, through His Word, devotionals, and other people, He began to show me that He had been there all along. (Yes, like “The Footprints” poem.) And yes, He did not answer those prayers. And yet He did, in His time and in His way. The suffering I endured was to serve to only make me stronger and deepen my trust in Him. It was a three-day period. The Bible has a lot of three-day examples: Jonah in the Belly of the Whale, (Yeah, that would have been way worse). And of course the tense 3-day period between Jesus’ death and resurrection! Watch out for those three day periods of trails. Don’t give up! Don’t give in to those d words: doubt, despair, discouragement, depression. Instead, fight them!
Not only don’t pull away from God, but draw closer to HIm!
It is said the apostle Peter was executed during the reign of the mad Roman emperor Nero. He wrote (or had written) his two epistles while Christians were dying for their faith. Though our trials are nowhere like theirs’, his words of encouragement to them echo down the ages to us today. So be encouraged: “… though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith - of greater worth than gold… may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.” (I Peter 1:6,7)
Our faith is more valuable than we realize!
So, yeah. Go ahead and get mad at God if you need to. He really can handle it.
But try not to leave His side, His Son, His Holy Spirit, or His Word.
It’s from here we get the peace of Christ, with which to continue the journey.
Yes, Philippians 4:6,7 “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation,
by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.
And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”
Posted in Rebecca Hyvonen
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