are you mad at me?

He's not mad at you...

He's not disappointed...

His grace is greater still...

than all of your wrong choices

These are some of the lyrics to a song by Pocket Full of Rocks, and they have been running over my mind quite a lot lately.

Based on all of my "Christian understanding," of course I know that God is not mad at me. Of course He isn't disappointed. And, of course, His grace both covers me and empowers me to be better. That's the right answer, isn't it?

But, knowing all of that doesn't mean that I still don't marvel at the thought of Him not being mad at me and disappointed in me for all of the awful decisions I make, the evil thoughts that I think, and the good things I simply don't do. He has every right and reason to be disappointed in me. He has 24 years of ammunition against me, and I add to it every day. Yet, somehow God looks past all of that and sees something else in me. I certainly don't deserve that.

Most people live with a subtle dread that one day they will be discovered for who they really are and the world will be appalled...we come into the world with a longing to be known and a deep-seated fear that we aren't what we should be. ~ The Sacred Romance

I have often read those words and marveled at how true they resonate with me. Don't we all wish that someone really understood us? That someone really could relate to us and understand how we think and feel? But then, doesn't it terrify us that someone will actually get a glimpse of what goes on in our minds and be absolutely horrified? I know that I am not what I should be, and I would wager that many other people would acknowledge this about themselves as well. However, it is one thing to acknowledge this about yourself, but it is an entirely different ball game when someone else realizes you for what you really are and knows that you are not what you should be. And, isn't that the exact position God is in? He knows exactly what we're thinking, how we're feeling. He knows our faults. He knows our successes. He knows our inner beauties and our deepest ugliness. Yet, somehow He comes out on the other side and isn't angry or disappointed, and I am left questioning,

"Are You sure You're not mad at me? Not even disappointed?"

And, often, before I even give Him a chance to answer, I think,

"Because I am. I am disappointed in myself. I am angry at myself for the stupid things I do."

Meanwhile, I think God is shaking His head (not His fist) and marveling at the forgetfulness of humanity. And, like Jesus said to Thomas, "Reach your finger here, and look at My hands; and reach your hand here, and put it into My side. Do not be unbelieving, but believing," He says it all over again to me. He says, "Look from where I have brought you, dear child." And then, as He said so many years ago,

"It is finished."