The Night I Told God I Hated Him
The Night I Told God I Hated Him
I want to share an intimate testimony from my past about a fear I had revolving around wondering if God was mad at me because of my lack of faith and trust. I felt abandoned. Nothing about life at that point made any sense, and I can't say things moving forward made any more sense either but I've grown to understand something very pivotal.
My dad suddenly passed away when I was 16. Those who know anything about me, know that my dad was my best friend. He was also all the things good dads ought to be. Loving, gentle, kind, humorous. A shield, a rock, a hero. I'll never forget the day I was called to the office. I was sitting in Mr. Moddelmog's class when they asked for me. My teacher made a light-hearted joke about wondering what Ginger had done now. I never got called to the office. I wasn't a perfect teenager but I wasn't a bad student. I wasn't at all concerned though and walked down the hallway without a care in the world. Waiting for me beyond the glass windows, I could see my mother, she was standing with some business looking lady. The lady smiled softly my way and said "hello." My mother looked at me with a sort of cold expression but nothing really gave away the secret she was harbouring. I glanced over at Ms. Hill, our school secretary and she avoided eye contact with me and looked a bit forlorn. "You're coming with us" mom said and with that...I was hopping into an unknown vehicle with my mom and this mystery woman.
For some reason unbeknownst to me, I didn't ask any questions and my heart wasn't in a frantic 5k race within my chest yet. We drove a little ways and I noticed we were pulling up to our small town's little hospital. I thought, it must be grandma who's been hurt or something? I was clearly confused and no one was talking. We went into the emergency room, where I didn't realize upon walking in that my life was about to turn upside down and inside out all at once.
My mom told me to have a seat and the mystery woman stood by her side. Mom kneeled in front of me and said " I don't want you to be scared but Jesus took daddy home to heaven." I heard her voice and I saw her mouth move but my mind didn't process the words. 12:45. My eyes shifted towards the clock on the wall. 12:46. 12:47. I laughed faintly and replied "mom, what? No, dad's coming to pick me up from school in a few hours, like always! What are you talking about?" The mystery lady who I would later learn happened to be my dad's boss stepped forward and put her hand on my shoulder, I became uneasy at this sudden display of affection. "Ginger, your dad passed away at work, they believe he had a massive heart attack, he's gone sweetie." -- Mom, patted my lap and said "it's going to be hard but we'll get through this, I'm going to need you to be strong for me, I'm sorry baby, daddy's gone....I'm having him cremated and we need to go to the funeral home soon. You have 10 minutes to say goodbye."
My heart plummeted to the bottom of my soul. Tears welled up in my eyes but refused to fall. I repeated that dad was coming to get me from school because he never forgot. I balled my fists up tight and started to bite my lower lip. I was escorted through the entrance door into the place I remember as "the room where no one comes back." My dad was lying there in his work clothes on a small table. Resting, he was only resting. Right? I let out a raspy "no!" and held my hands up to my face and every horrible emotion cascaded out of my body. Mom said she would leave us alone for a few minutes while also reminding me I didn't have much time. My brain was spinning. 15 minutes ago I was studying algebra and now I was looking at my dead father just lying here. I remember touching his face, it was still warm. His hands, still warm. I put my hand on his chest to make absolutely sure his heart wasn't beating anymore. The paramedics surely got this one wrong. This was MY DAD we were talking about here. I started yelling out "come on dad, wake up, this isn't funny. wake up!" I shook his shoulders and leaned in to try and pull him up. I'm not gonna lie, I even smacked his face a little. When my brain could render that what everyone was saying was indeed true: my blood turned to thick ice. Several people came into the room to try and pull me away from my dad. After some time, I stepped out into the waiting room to see the paramedics who had failed my dad. I started to yell at them for not doing their job, then my mom started yelling at me and I felt entirely helpless. I demanded to go back to school. This was all a dream and I didn't want any part in it. I begged my mom to let me go back to school. Obviously, she said that I couldn't go back to class so I then demanded to be dropped off at the front doors so I could go into school myself to get my books and homework assignments. I walked down the hallways and into my classroom like nothing had happened. One of my teachers had already collected what I needed to take home for the day and He and the rest of the room quietly watched me walk in and avoided making eye contact with me. I picked up my school books and told my teacher I'd be emailing him about further missed assignments and hopefully I'd be back in class soon. I was insane to say the least.
The night following my dad's sudden death, I went to bed and turned off my thoughts. Tomorrow will be different. Dad will be back. Everyone is crazy and none of this is true. In the wee hours, I heard something downstairs make a crashing sound and then I heard a wail. It was my mom and I was supposed to remember to stay strong for her. I rushed down the stairs and there she was sitting on the kitchen floor by the sink. A few dishes laid beside her. Anything she uttered was non-verbal and I just told her to "come here." I cradled my mom, which was the strangest thing I had ever done up til that point in my adolescence and I didn't have any words to say. I just knew I couldn't cry. "Stay strong." I told myself. -- When mom had calmed down and we went back to our respectable bedrooms. I pushed my face into my pillow and silently screamed. I dug my fists into the covers and audibly told God "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"
When I tell people that I told God I hated him when I was 16, an expression of disdain clouds their vision. Clearly confused, the common reply is "how could you say that?" I'll tell you how... You bind up an already emotionally scarred, needy, teenager with more heartache than she can grapple with and a mom who she doesn't get along with. A girl who's best friend was ripped out of her life when she needed him most. A girl who was starving herself and self-harming and already drowning in a depression she didn't understand because of all the bullies on the playground. I told God I hated him because I didn't understand his plan nor did I have interest in understanding it at that time. I told God I hated him because the grief of loss was an unimaginable burden. I told God I hated him because losing your dad at 16 is hard. This sweet sixteenth year people gloat about? It turned out to be rather bitter.
This is a moment in my life that I go back to a lot when I'm struggling with my faith. The night I told God I hated him. You know, it's funny, or maybe it isn't? But God didn't love me any less when I told him what I did. If I could have only seen then what I can look back and see today: God holding my broken, tattered heart so calmly. God shed tears with me as he sent down a gentle Spring rainfall to pitter-patter at my window. I imagine He whispered "I'm going to help you through this, my girl, you are not alone, I know you don't understand now but someday you will." "Trust me through this, my daughter, and in time things will be ok." "Let it out, let all the pain and anger out...I understand and I've got you in my embrace and I'm not letting go." "Hold on, hope abounds."
Over the course of my young life, when something would go wrong or another tragedy would strike I feared that God was punishing me for the time I told Him that I hated Him. I knew I shouldn't have been so blunt. I would go to bed and beg for His forgiveness....I'd do anything if He would just stop this out of control rollercoaster ride I was on.
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I'm not gonna lie. It hasn't been very long since I've learned that God doesn't punish us. Not even when we are mad and annoyed at him. Not even when we don't understand or like his plans. Not even in the seasons of trial that may make us turn our faces away from His light. To understand God's ways would be to understand the vastness of the oceans depths. Which is something no man has ever done yet, despite our technological advances and which no man ever will.
God loves us so much. He loves YOU sooo much. Do you believe that? Do you believe Him? In the midst of betrayal, death, abandonment, financial difficulty, or health crisis can we believe that He is still good and that He is still good at being God? We often hear that his understanding far exceeds anything our earthly minds will ever comprehend. And honestly, if you ask me, God's doing us a big favor by sparing us too many details. The weight of the universe was never supposed to fall on our shoulders. These things are God's business. Let's let God be God. You with me?
I can't tell you why I lost my dad at 16. I can't tell you why anyone loses a parent prematurely. Or a spouse, child, or even a friend. I can't draw a game plan for the future. I can't tell you why some kids go to bed with full bellies, tucked sweetly away in their beds while others go cold and hungry. And I can't tell you why abuse or rejection happens to some of the most caring people the world knows. But what I can tell you and what builds my faith in the Almighty creator is this:
God's blessing for our life and his good plan isn't defined by our abilities or our circumstances. His blessings and plan don't change because we've stumbled down and martyred our name with the words: f.a.i.l.u.r.e. He is God and after all he created us humans to be human. And boy can I ever be human to the max! He created us because He wanted us and when He created us, He knew what He was doing. God didn't just think we'd be mad and sick to our stomachs and defiant along the journey. Actually, He expected it.
Our weaknesses, questions, anger, whatever it may be are all proof of just how much we need Him. He is a God who restores, builds up and builds anew. It's His favorite thing to do! All of these things when given to God can and will be turned into something beautiful and worthwhile in the end. For me, it wasn't only the ultimate comfort that I received over the years as I continued to learn more about Him that helped me through difficulties, It was in learning to be thankful for all that God had done. He gave me the chance to be loved and nurtured by one of the best dads ever and I have so many fond memories to look back on. It's been connecting with other people through grief and loss and letting another soul know they aren't alone, that I understand a little of what they are going through and facing. God never allows anything to happen for no reason. And it sounds cliche to say it but it's true that, ALL THINGS WORK TOGETHER FOR GOOD, even when it doesn't seem like any good can come from what's happening.
God hasn't forgotten about you, my dear. He never will. He is not punishing you when you don't understand and have human emotions. He equipped you with them in the first place. He is holding you and walking with you! Whenever you feel like giving up, God doesn't give up. He doesn't run out on you or harm you. He has big, meaningful plans for your life and He longs to see them through with you in His heart faithfulness. For He is who he says he is and He is just that GOOD!
When I told God I hated him, I had no idea how those hurtful words would later end up bringing me closer to Him through forgiveness. I had no idea that I would move forth from the loss of my dad (still missing him) but stronger. I had no idea the impact it would make on my life to love harder and show up more for the people that were still in my life. I've learned to appreciate my loved ones more and I've learned to never take a single moment for granted.
-- ginger ✨
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