It’s natural for believers to expect God to be as big as the storms in their lives. Or bigger.
This evening, it occurred to me that I’ve always had that expectation, that belief somewhere at the back of my mind underpinning everything. It’s what’s helped me to have faith in Him all this time. … But I also realised that it contributes to my frustration.
It frustrates me, that I’m supposed to be following the God who made everything in heaven and earth… who has the power to move mountains and cast down empires, utterly transform hearts and lives, and completely turn impossible circumstances around – and yet I’m surrounded, at the same time, by an unyielding wall of impossibility that has rung, immovably, with the futile blows of my rage and sadness all these years.
I’m confounded that I worship a holy God who abhors sin and wants me to be purified of it, and yet…
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