The God Box

I've been having a rough couple of days.  Not only am I going through all kinds of medical tests and have to go see a surgeon tomorrow, but I am in physical pain.  I am even having difficulty walking from this house to our new house 2 doors away.  I'm apprehensive about the next 2 appointments and that's probably adding to my pain.  I've also been grouchy.  My beloved husband and daughter can attest to that, poor dears.

In the middle of this, I have the joy of the Lord.  I know He's taking care of it all and that whatever the answers will be, His hand is there.  It's easy to say that now, but I used to have a major trust issue with God.

My dear friend, Pat, always had a smile on her face.  Her comment when I complained that my life was horrible was this:  "It's okay, honey, God'll take care of it!"  That was hard, or nearly impossible for me to believe.  I had just left my 3rd marriage, lost the house, had two kids to raise and no place to live and of course, no money.  I had to do something, but what?  My prayers felt like they were falling on deaf ears.  I knew in my heart that God heard all my prayers, but I felt terribly alone.

I was cleaning houses and selling Tupperware to earn the money to get a place.  It seemed like my problems always followed me wherever I went.  I had heard someone once talk about writing down their problems and putting them in a "God box".  What the heck, I thought.  I'd give it a try.

I found an empty oatmeal box - the cylindrical one - and put sticky shelf paper all around it, sticking the top on so I couldn't get back in to check out what I wrote.  I cut a hole in the top and bought a small tablet to carry with me.  The box went everywhere I went.  Whenever I thought about something upsetting, I would write it down:  "Dear God, Rene owes me money."  or "Dear God, I am afraid I'll never find a place to live" or "Dear God, the kids are driving me crazy." 

The act of folding the paper up and shoving it into the box was a physical prayer for me.I always told God it was His now to handle.  Often, I wrote the same petty thing for days on end.  I filled up the box and had to make another. When I went to clean a house, I would leave the box outside the door, laying all my problems asideso I could be a good worker.  Many times, people would notice the box and after several visits, get up the nerve to ask what it was.  I would reply that those were my problems.  Sometimes we'd talk about the physical act of leaving my problems outside when I would enter a place.  For me, that's what it took back then.  My problems seemed overwhelming.  Once in the box, they were an entity that God had to care for. 

After I got settled in a little house of my own with the kids, I was no longer carrying the box.  I don't even remember when I stopped.  Somehow that stuff wasn't so important anymore.  As I was emptying out all the boxes of stuff from our move, I came across one of the boxes.  Dying from curiosity, I ripped the top off the box and sat in the shed reading paper after paper of my cares and worries.  ALL of them had been resolved!  God took my worries, whatever size and made ash of them.  I took the box, the papers and all and burned it in the barbecue. 

So as I worry an fret about what's going on here, I know one thing for certain:  God is in control, 

I'm thinking about you guys out there in J-Land and am grateful for your comments and prayers.  I'm trying to get to journals, but just can't seem to make time right now.  If I have to have surgery, I have a feeling that I will have plenty of time on the 'puter while I recover. 

Blessings to all, Penny