Blind Hope: An Unwanted Dog & the Woman She Rescued (13 page)

“Although I told myself that I wanted to follow God, I didn’t want him bad enough to surrender my life to his leading. I prayed for God to lead me, yet nothing in my life, thoughts, or actions indicated that I actually wanted to follow him.”

Laurie stopped talking.

I skied on in silence, hoping to create an empty stage for
Laurie to fill. Honest confrontations with oneself are often the most difficult confrontations of all. Moments passed, marked only by the soft sound of our skis gliding through the snow.

Laurie had retreated into the tracks behind me. From over my shoulder, I heard her clear her throat. “Every big and little thing that came my way still upset me, still completely derailed me. It was as if I was still looking for things to be angry about instead of looking for ways to resolve my problems. I had the opportunity to follow God, to walk in his light. Yet I was still choosing to walk my own way, to live in my hurt, longing, and frustration. I was not at peace. I was still wrestling. Sad, really, because I could have chosen well. I just didn’t.

“I was at home one night, waiting for my roommate to call me. We had made plans earlier to spend some time together. I waited hours for her to contact me. Throughout the evening, she didn’t return any of my phone calls. She was completely blowing me off, and I assumed that she had chosen instead to spend the time with another friend she valued more than me. When I finally accepted the fact that she had rejected me, I was just so hurt, confused, and mad. In that moment, I knew that
all my fears about being unaccepted by this world were confirmed. In my broken state, I decided I was just done trying!”

Feeling cast aside, Laurie loaded Mia into her car and started driving east. She headed toward one of the most desolate places she knew. She didn’t want to see anyone. She just wanted to be alone. Driving through the night with Mia beside her, she had no destination, no plan, no agenda. Nothing filled her mind other than escape.

The night grew darker as Laurie drove away from civilization. Strong winds buffeted the High Desert. A blizzard was threatening. The full moon raced before the storm, dashing from a constant pursuit of clouds. Scattered snow blew across the road from the leading edge of the tempest.

Laurie knew there were no gas stations in this direction for nearly a hundred miles and drove as far as she dared. When she finally steered off the road and pulled her car to a stop, the full wrath of the storm had been unleashed. The turbulent weather escalated with Laurie’s emotions into a tangle of confusion and chaos.

I’m not ready to turn back. I’m not ready to go home … to face my roommate … to face my life
.

The power of the wind rocked Laurie’s car. Inside, on the
seat beside her, Mia lay fast asleep. Laurie sat in silence. If someone were to have peered through the car window, they would have seen that on the outside Laurie seemed peaceful, like the dog sleeping beside her. But on the inside, Laurie raged like the storm howling around her.

In that moment, the flimsy layer of falsehood she’d chosen to hide behind her entire life finally collapsed. Laurie’s emotions came boiling out in a volcanic fury.

“I accused God! I spoke harshly to him. I blamed him for all my failures. All that was wrong in my life, I shoved upon him every hurtful thing that had ever happened to me. I didn’t stop for air. I just gushed out all that was burning in my soul before God.”

Laurie shouted, accused, and cried, purging all that was in her heart. Twenty minutes later, her fiery rant ended. There was nothing left to say. She had finally spoken the awful monsters she had kept alive in her heart for years.

Exhausted and nauseous from her emotional outpouring, Laurie sat in numb silence. Indignant, she waited for an answer from God. She looked up at the stormy night sky. Like a
celestial stampede, the wind-driven clouds raced across the moon. Leaning her left elbow on the window ledge, Laurie rested her head in her palm. She looked across at her sleeping dog, lying nose to tail in a soft circle of white hair. The storm outside and the rage inside hadn’t disturbed Mia’s slumber.

You’re totally at peace in my presence, aren’t you, girl? No matter what’s going on around us, you still choose to rest
. She reached over and ran her hand over Mia’s brow.

Then a small but firm voice spiraled from beyond the storm into her soul. Words from the Bible streamed through her mind, words Laurie had read earlier that day. The verse told about the angels who circle God’s throne and never cease worshiping him. Day and night they cry out, “Holy, holy, holy.”
¹

The angels’ only cry was to praise a holy God.

I’ve been crying out to God too, but my words have been far from holy. My words have been demanding, arrogant, selfish
.

Laurie sat in hollow silence.

Slowly, a feeling blanketed her, an understanding, a warmth. She could sense comprehension filling her soul, a deep realization of just who it was she was addressing.

Her faults suddenly weighed heavily on her heart. What right did she have to bring accusations before a holy God? None. Even now, after her blistering outburst against him, all
she felt in return was love. God’s love poured over her, drenching her parched soul with complete acceptance of who she was.

He did not reject her; he did not scold her. He chose only to embrace her. Against such love, Laurie had no defense.

Overwhelmed, her heart broke. What she should be giving him was her thankfulness. Devastated by shame, guilt, and sorrow, Laurie was consumed by uncontrollable sobs. Her face dropped into her hands, and tears poured through her fingers.

She grieved for all her arrogance and accusatory pride that had somehow made her feel justified to stand against the God she claimed to serve. She cried over every self-appointed roadblock. She mourned for every obstacle she’d set before God so that she wouldn’t have to live for him.

“God, you love me so completely despite these things,” Laurie whispered.

For so many years, I thought I was good enough, as good as the next person. But the truth is, I am simply a broken sinner, bowing before a loving and holy God. The only thing I should be expressing to God is gratitude
.

The storm outside raged on, but the storm in Laurie’s heart began to subside. As her dog had already discovered, before a loving master, there is always a place to rest. Mia embodied what her master could also choose: peace.

Without a word, I stopped skiing and reached for my friend. There in the snow, on the north end of Todd Lake, we embraced. Laurie’s body shook in silent remorse. After long moments of grieving, she began to rally. I released my friend and waited as she dried her face. During warmer months, this end of the lake was green and marshy, but now we stood in a meadow of pure white. One stunted, solitary tree knelt in the snow beside us. Bent under the weight of winter, it appeared to be praying for us. I smiled at the thought. Without a word, we began to stride once more.

True to her burgeoning courage, Laurie spoke again.

“I hadn’t talked to God, really talked to him, in a long time.” Her voice caught. “Earlier that day, when I read my Bible, it didn’t mean much to me. I remember putting my Bible down and feeling frustrated that even when I tried spending time with God, when I tried to understand, when I tried to straighten things out in my life, God still let me down—how dare he!

“I had asked him to help me and show me his light; shouldn’t he also make my life easier and more comfortable to bear? Since I had asked for his help, it didn’t seem like anything in my life had changed at all. So where’s the help? What’s the point? What’s the use?”

I looked back at Laurie and nodded slightly, letting her know I was with her, I was listening.

“So that night I drove out to the desert. The storm blew in, and I blew up … at God.”

Her voice was so choked with emotion that I could barely hear her.

“Then, when I finally fell silent, God came through the darkness and met with me. He came not with anger, condemnation, or judgment, but in complete tenderness. That night, right then, right there, I confessed. I confessed out loud in the storm that I am no longer my god. Jesus is.

“The storm outside still raged, but the storm inside my life had been laid to rest. I finally decided to surrender. Even though I had spoken of it earlier in my life, I had never really done it. I had never honestly surrendered my life or my control of it.”

I considered her statement. “Your control? Honestly, what do we control? When is the last time you told your heart to beat? Or your eyes to see? How often do we direct the rhythm of our breathing? The only thing we actually do control in this life is the ability to choose our attitude, our beliefs. The truth about our being ‘in control’ is that it is an illusion we want to believe is real.”

Laurie nodded before adding, “I lived a long time convincing
myself that my illusion of control was real, believing that I didn’t really need God to lead me. As I said, I hadn’t yet surrendered control of my life, my whole life, to God … not until that night.”