Jesus, I Have a LOT of Questions

This year hasn’t gone as planned. It hasn’t been a terrible year, but I didn’t think health issues would be the biggest theme of the year in and around me. A lot of it, okay, all of it really rocked me, because none of it was in MY plans.

Then I saw a picture our son took on his first day back to college. Earlier the same day in the TimeHop app a picture popped up of his first day last year. What a difference! This year he looks so happy, and there are tangible reasons why. One thing I believe is that God is helping him overcome his anxiety, something he is transparent about online and in person.

That’s what gets me thinking about eternity. That’s the time frame heavenly residents receive, and that’s comforting for a limitless amount of reasons. One thing I often reflect on, no lie, are the questions I plan to ask Jesus. I NEED eternity. Because I have a lot of questions.

There are so many prayers I believe Jesus took to our Heavenly Dad that got the “yes” stamp. But the ones that got no? I still mull it over. I don’t understand. I specifically asked that our kids would not struggle the way I did. In my small mind and younger years, I knew that my reproductive years and process were not like the others. My monthly “gift” was hard, and I didn’t understand at the time, or for decades, it was hormonal imbalance. The depression was overwhelming. There were seasons I had to pray my way away from the medicine cabinet, it was that bad.

Thanks to PCOS, I had pain. Not a “I have a cramp” kind of discomfort, but the kind where walking was a challenge. Turns out, once I had half of each ovary removed, I learned I was walking around with what my surgeon called “whoppers.” He was astounded I was mobile at all.

So when I learned I was pregnant with what I knew was our daughter, I begged God to let her escape these things. I didn’t want her to have any of the pain I’ve experienced. Not the physical, emotional, spiritual or mental.

What happened?

One, He promised me when she was in the womb, she’d be an overcomer.

Two, she has overcome the very issues I’ve dealt with, plus more. Including a rare diagnosis that is so rare we are kind of navigating her puberty by faith and very limited information.

Jesus. Are you kidding me? Did you not hear my prayers? What gives? That’s only the first line of rapid gun-fire speed questions I have when we’re taking a walk on the gold streets.

But looking at the picture of our son, so many years went into keeping our daughter alive and then maintaining her health that our oldest had to live on the back burner. How I prayed he would suffer no effects. When he would be up all night with worry before each first day of school, I didn’t think much of it, although we sure prayed through it. Events at school hit him harder than others, and I chalked that up to being like me. I’m spiritually sensitive and I can often absorb an atmosphere around me.

When he first started talking about anxiety and I watched him manifest symptoms, I was shell-shocked. Recently, as I’ve had to research my own health and looked back at my experiences over the years, I can see anxiety was woven into a thin thread of my years. Mind running non stop with scenarios. Fears of the what if. Dread regarding the firsts, yes, even first day of school.

And again, the questions. Jesus, why would you inflict a child who has a heart so pure for You? This was a kid that would go to the back of church, put his hands on the map, and pray for China to be set free for Jesus. He was five. He would re-enact the play Heaven’s Gates and Hell’s Flames. And anxiety is his gift?

Why, Jesus, why? Why would you do this?

Here’s what I know. He doesn’t owe me an answer. He’s Jesus and I’m Julie.

Here’s what else I know. What matters to me, matters to Him. Those times I cried so hard I couldn’t even see, I know with all my heart I was never alone. Those times I started to the medicine cabinet and turned back around? I believe it was Jesus holding my shoulders that helped me change course.

I also know the power of lamentation. One of the best books I’ve read is No More Faking Fine by Esther Fleece. If you think you’ve had a hard time, read Esther’s testimony. That book is an eye opener because if you’re like me, you stuff the anger and the questions. It’s the worst thing you could do. Lamenting is taking to God raw. Take those questions and hurl them His way. His shoulders can take it. And if you worry about being disrespectful, that means you’ve got a healthy dose of the fear of the Lord in you. So ask. Go there. Get. it. out.

Because as I’ve asked why these struggles when I specifically asked, even begged that our kids not have those issues, I’ve received a lot of answers. Not exactly the answers I thought I’d get, but better, I think. I’m watching my kids grow into some incredible young people who can shoulder some stuff and have compassion for others. I’ve observed divine connections happen where either someone enters their life to help them, or, they are helping others because they know what the pain is like. I know enough to know these things would never happen had they not struggled in the ways they have.

What else am I seeing? This year I have felt with all my senses the goodness of God. Even in crappy circumstances I don’t understand, something good is produced on the other side. There is favor on our daughter that we have to laugh at because it makes no sense to a logical mind. People hand her things. Clothes. Money. Gifts just because. Our son is a triple threat because he has the heart of a worshiper, a prayer warrior, and I believe a pioneer spirit where God prepares him a little ahead of others for what is to come. I get how heaven sent and special these things are.

I sense His presence in these things, and in and around them as well. When I fret about them being alone, I am able to visualize that the halls they walk, the drives they take, they are not alone. Jesus goes before them. He is our rear guard. He surrounds us.

So, the questions are healthy to ask. I know the valley times aren’t over. But hopefully, what I’m learning from this season will set me up for a faster reaction time and obedience for the next.

Can you relate?

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My books all contain elements of surrender, and in Engaged, Trish has questions. The dream job she thought she’d retire in disappears before she can even get all her boxes unpacked. Why would God do this? Well, there are answers for her, and some come from the local paramedic, Wayne Peterson…