The Logistics of Being Angry at God

…It very much connects to my recent pondering on Joy.

This is something that I am sure I have shared with you before, but I must reiterate it in hopes that these thoughts continue to be meaningful. Much like your thoughts about beauty, I have been captivated by the reality that Joy might be one of the only things in the world that cannot in any way be purchased–only received.

I am sure that I told you about the end of my first summer as a counselor in 2005 at SpringHill when I spent some time trying to ponder the “big picture” of the summer. There I was, ten weeks older and well more than ten weeks wiser, and I was asking the “so what?” question. After a good bit of pondering, I arrived at patience and joy.

I would hate to seem too much of a reductionist, but there’s really nothing about life that is more complicated than those two things, working together… I think.

…and if you knew fully where I am coming from in writing this, you would begin to understand. I will try to explain this momentarily.

As Christians, (and this is only possible through what we may regard as “Christian hope”) we understand that there is something better. There is some purpose that goes beyond us. Perhaps most simply, I must, as a Christian, understand that life is bigger than me. My life is for something more. Yours is too.

We will always find joy in this greater purpose, and if we’re having a hard time with even that, we must be patient enough that we may wait until our eyes are opened to that joy. It’s about patience, and it’s about joy. But, you already know all of this.

So… Where I am coming from…
Work here is terrible. I work with good people, and the work is enjoyable and challenging, but I am one of more than a thousand seasonal employees. I care not to elaborate, but work here is terrible. You’ll need to trust me here.

BUT. I live in Alaska. So it’s worth it. Again, you’ll need to trust me here. It is worth it 100%.

It has been much harder than I currently even realize to be so very far away from so many people with whom I am familiar. Alaska is good, but hard. I don’t think that there’s any bit of me that fully realized what it would be like to make life, if only for a summer, so far North into the unknown. At the end of the day, it’s a character building experience.

But really… The distance has been hard…

I received word yesterday that a guy who was on Chapel Core Staff with me this past year was killed, only 20 years old, in a bicycle accident. He was riding to work and a beer delivery truck didn’t see him… Or that’s how the story went by the time it got to Alaska. In any case, this was news that took me 4 days to hear. That was and continues to be hard.

In a completely unrelated story, there are two women, fellow seasonal employees like myself, who are presently lost, somewhere in Denali National Park. They were reported missing when they didn’t show up for work last week, and now, 5 days after they were reported missing, only 100 of Denali’s more than 9,400 square miles have been searched. The dense foliage and rugged terrain make the search very slow, if not sometimes nearly impossible.

I didn’t know either of these ladies, but their story affirms the reality that, in a moment’s time, life can change. They went out for an overnight backpacking trip, and their lives changed. My buddy Patrick got on his bike to go to work, and his life ended.

So… How do you deal with the reality of loss when there’s not a soul in sight who knows you for who you really are?

That’s the predicament at the present moment.

I have been very distracted, so my minute-to-minute life has not been terribly negative, but when I have opportunities, such as now, to reflect on such things, I begin to feel completely overwhelmed by the reality of loss.

I talked to the girl who led our Chapel Core Staff this last year, and she, very profoundly, admitted that she’s not ready to be okay with Patrick’s passing away. She’s not ready to say that she’s okay with his death. She’s not ready to say that she has found the silver lining in the situation, because, in reality, there may not be one. And I really admire her forthrightness about that.

I have, lately, been trying to figure out the logistics of being angry at God.
I read an article in a Cleveland, Ohio newspaper about Patrick’s death, and in the comments section, people kept talking about how his family’s deep and abiding faith would carry them through. Frankly speaking, that sounds like some bullshit that somebody would only say if they hadn’t ever lost a son, a brother, a close friend. Like my friend Carissa, I’m not okay with dismissing this as a matter of God’s will.

What if this is a result of the fact that the world is being held captive to sin, pain, and destruction?

Certainly I will affirm that God is active in the world today, but until Christ comes again, so is Satan. Satan is alive and well in the world today, and because of that, I am not okay with any condolences that dismiss this issue as a matter of God’s perfect will.

And yet…

Scripture is full of passages in which God asks people, very plainly, “what right do you have to be angry?”

What right do I have? None.

But the world is a broken place, and I’m still trying to figure out how to cope.

What right do I have? None.

But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt.

…and it all comes back to patience and joy, doesn’t it?

It’s hard to be really joyful right now. But I have faith that if I am patient, I will soon find joy again.

And that’s a good feeling.

Please find the opportunity to read Job 38 (and 39?). God is God, and we are not. And while that does little to aid in coping with a broken world, at least it does something to affirm that God might, just maybe, possibly know that there’s a bigger plan in the works here. And at the end of the day, it’s not about you. It’s not about me. It’s about something bigger.

Life is bigger than us, and somehow that’s an idea that is a little comforting.

I am reminded of a Max Lucado quote:
If it’s all about you, then it’s all up to you.God loves you enough to say that it’s not about you.

I will look forward to sharing more about Alaska, but now is maybe not a super time for that.

I am very pleased to hear that you are well.

Most fondly,
Nate