I know the horror of thinking, even for a moment, that God has abandoned me. It’s terrifying. I’ve also talked recently to more than one person who is struggling in major ways with wondering whether or not God gives a rip. If God is personal and powerful, then where was He when _______ happened? He could have stopped it. He could have rescued. He could have saved. But He didn’t. Why? Why? Why?

The other day I had to go to Nordstroms to spend a gift certificate. I don’t usually shop there due to the fact that a pair of pants costs $250. On sale. I was wearing work out pants and a sweatshirt, and I was having a bad hair day. Pony tail and stringy bangs. While keeping my head low and browsing their sale racks I analyzed my thoughts. Do you ever do that? Listen – really listen – to the messages you’re telling yourself? Here’s what I heard:

“I am so ugly. I hate my hair. I look like a total dweeb. I don’t belong here. My purse is too big for my body and stuffed with…who knows what. Why did I wear this old jacket? Look at those chic girls looking at work out clothing. They are adorable. Reminder: I don’t belong here. Where do they get their money? I’m getting old. I’m getting bags under my eyes. I’m getting bags everywhere. Look at THAT cute bag. I need a new bag.” And on it went.

Because of all the reading I’ve been doing lately about abuse and shame and guilt and other life garbage, I recognized that I was riddled with SHAME!  I realized I feel like that every time I go out in public. It wasn’t Nordstroms. I feel like that when I go to Walmart, too. The shame wasn’t in the Nordstrom’s air. It wasn’t coming from the chic girls or the rich woman with the cute bag. The shame was inside of me. Where did that come from?

It came from a few things, one of which was enduring daily abuse from neighborhood and school peers for several years. I was bullied mercilessly. I’m not going to go into details here, but those experiences left their mark on my soul even though I brushed it off when I grew older and the abuse stopped. I hate bullying. It truly rips a person to shreds and leaves them scarred for life. What about you? Where does your shame come from? Were you sexually abused? Battered? Verbally torn apart by the very people who were supposed to protect you? Ignored?

As I drove home, I prayed. “God, will I ever be healthy emotionally? You know? To my CORE? Will I always have to struggle with these insecurities? With feeling ugly and stupid? I can’t stand this! How can I be almost 48 and still feeling like a lost child? Where is the healing?! I’m sick of trying and waiting! If You’re so powerful, why don’t you heal me inside?!”

Then the thought came to me, “Natalie, what if I never heal you on earth? Can you trust Me if I choose to keep you broken? What do you want more? Healing, or Me?”

“Well, as long as You’re asking, um….both? Oh yeah. Which one do I want more. OK. You. I want You more.” And I really do.

I’ve been meditating on Psalm 73 for over a month now. It is such a perfect Psalm for what I’m currently going through. A friend who is going through something totally different told me, “It is the perfect Psalm for what I’m currently going through.”

Seriously? That’s incredible.

Please don’t click away now thinking, “Oh boy. A Psalm. Boring. Gotta run.” Please don’t do that. I’m so excited to share what I see here, and I think for some of you it could be just what you need today.

Truly God is good to Israel, to those who are pure in heart.

But as for me, my feet had almost stumbled, my steps had nearly slipped.

For I was envious of the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked.

For they have no pangs until death; their bodies are fat and sleek.

They are not in trouble as others are; they are not stricken like the rest of mankind.

Yeah. What’s up with that? Is that FAIR?! (Tripping. Slipping.)

Therefore pride is their necklace; violence covers them as a garment.

Their eyes swell out through fatness; their hearts overflow with follies.

They scoff and speak with malice; loftily they threaten oppression.

They set their mouths against the heavens, and their tongue struts through the earth.

They STRUT their lips because they know they can GET AWAY WITH IT. Augh! Where is the JUSTICE for crying out loud?

Therefore his people turn back to them, and find no fault in them.

What?! God’s people actually think these creeps ROCK?! These are wolves in sheep’s clothing because they pull the wool (pun totally intended) over the eyes of gullible Christians who like to think all is just peachy keen, hunky dory. Makes me wanna vomit. Blech.

And they say, “How can God know? Is there knowledge in the Most High?”

I suppose they think if idiotic Christians can’t figure it out, their unseen God won’t be able to figure it out either.

Behold, these are the wicked; always at ease, they increase in riches.

All in vain have I kept my heart clean and washed my hands in innocence.

I tried and tried and tried to do what was right. What good did it do? Nobody believes the good guys. They all believe the wolves posing as sheep. Baaaaaaa. D.

For all the day long I have been stricken and rebuked every morning.

I’m so sick of the rebukes and the lectures and the “you failure” messages I keep getting no matter what I do.

If I had said, “I will speak thus,” I would have betrayed the generation of your children.

If I speak up and expose the wolves, entire empires will fall! Everything hinges on making sure it all looks good on the outside.

But when I thought how to understand this, it seemed to me a wearisome task,

I don’t get it. I don’t get it. I really, really, REALLY don’t get it.

until I went into the sanctuary of God; then I discerned their end.

There’s an end to the madness? For real?

Truly you set them in slippery places; you make them fall to ruin.

How they are destroyed in a moment, swept away utterly by terrors!

Like a dream when one awakes, O Lord, when you rouse yourself, you despise them as phantoms.

So there will be justice. It seems to be taking a long time, but it will happen suddenly. And it will happen.

When my soul was embittered, when I was pricked in heart,

I was brutish and ignorant; I was like a beast toward you.

Yes. I feel like a wild animal. A trapped animal. I don’t get it. I’m confused. I feel like I’m going crazy. How can You love me? How can you want to even glance my way? Ugly, raving lunatic that I am.

Nevertheless, I am continually with you; you hold my right hand.

You are always, always, always with me. Even when I’m shaking my fist at You and accusing You of being weak or just missing. You are not just with me though. You are touching me. You are taking my shaking fist gently into your hands and holding it tight. Holding my hand even as it rebels in a frenzy of pain. (Weeping now.)

You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will receive me to glory.

You have not given up on me. You are still guiding me. I am where You want me to be. In your capable Hands. And You will be keeping me there all throughout my life on earth and on into eternity. I will never be “swept away utterly by horrors.” You will never “despise me as a phantom.” I will never be destroyed. I will be received. This is my destiny.

Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.

If I can have You, I will have Your wholeness covering my brokenness. I will have Your light overwhelming and illuminating my darkness. Your largeness, Your strength, Your holiness engulfs me, swallows me up, hides me, and receives me. Your realness makes me real.

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

I thought I wanted healing. What if my flesh and heart fail me? No matter. I am strong anyway. Strong because You are Strength, and You are mine.

For behold, those who are far from you shall perish; you put an end to everyone who is unfaithful to you.

How tragic to be far from You. To live a brief existence of gorging on self and then to die in a moment and be forgotten forever. I am sad and sorry for those who are unfaithful. For those who fake it, but never become real.

But for me it is good to be near God; I have made the Lord God my refuge,

that I may tell of all your works.

I can’t control what others do, but I can hold tight to You. I can run to You and hide in You. I can speak truth for anyone who will hear. I don’t have to say anything but the truth about Who You are and what You are in me.

Will I struggle with shame the rest of my life? I don’t know. But it is good to be near God. And I have made HIM my refuge that I may tell of all His works.