Today the world around me lost its balance.

My thoughts ran vicariously as the wind awkwardly shaped the trees, and a heaviness fell upon our sleepy neighborhood.  I am still in a place where I don’t understand why some days feel different than others, why I don’t wake up every morning with God’s glory on my mind, and why my soul continually allows outside influences to weigh it down. 

It seems as though our days are mostly spent trying to get everything to go our way.  When they don’t, we have a whole slew of people and forces we love to blame.  Sometimes it’s the stress of being in a young marriage or the economy.  We got up on the wrong side of the bed, karma kicks in, or God must have a really bent sense of humor.  It’s as though we’ve forgotten that not only is our way not the one to pursue, but we live for a merciful God; one who knows the depths of our hearts and minds and loves us anyway. 

And I’m reminded of the grace Paul writes about in Romans.  He describes this unmatchable love that exists for us as children of God, even when we mess up.  Even when we try to get everything to go our way.

So maybe God allows for us to embrace some of being raw humans and doesn’t expect us to be perfect forgiving creatures.  Maybe it’s ok to get angry; to kick and scream and cry when the world lets you down; to take the time to get it all out and grieve for what you’ve lost.

Maybe only then are we able to see God’s way for us and let go of our own.