Give me a G! Give me an O! Give me a D!

Technically--and in every other way, really--I'm supposed to be working right now. And I will be again in a minute (and through lunch, so The Man will get his due) but I had to share this because it is just making me feel like someone cranked up the O2 content of the planet.

It all started yesterday, when I was listening to a sermon podcast about how we have the power in Christ to flip all bad things to good things because God has never, and will never, lose to the Accuser, including using all his nasty tricks for glorious results.  The speaker, Graham Cooke, said, "Whining, complaining, criticizing...it's the worship language of hell."

Gulp.

I was wondering what that would look like in my life.  And, lucky me, I got to find out.  I will not go into the details (see above quote) but I spent a good part of yesterday waiting for a promise to be fulfilled that wasn't.  Right as I was getting ready to put the hiss in hissy fit, that quote came back to haunt, er, bless me.  Instead of moaning and pouting and emailing others to share how unfair I'd been treated, I had a glass of white wine and read and chillaxed.  Sure enough, not a few minutes passed and all that heart-clawing self-defensive rage just...evaporated.  My evening turned out pretty well. And I texted a friend whose dad had offered to help out and he's coming this morning!

But I wasn't done learning yet.

I also discovered last night, shortly after breakthrough one, that the lease I signed last month had an error.  The rates I'd been sold were not the same as those on the lease. And yes, I'd signed it. I got mad again, at myself and at the mistaker. I started formulating the arguments I would make to convince the person to right the mistake and honor their word. I couldn't sleep, I was so busy plotting.

Then, once again, that still small voice, said. "Nope. Give that one to Me. Trust me."
I did.
And then a few seconds later reached out and held on again, just in case God needed my help.
He didn't. And he told me so. So I prayed to let it go, several more times I admit, before I succeeded.

This morning I thought about snatching up my worries, but sure enough my Bible study was on peace. I also thought about maybe just calling some people to ask for prayer and favor, but God, said, "Nope. Just trust me. I heard you the first time and I have got this."

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for intercession, but sometimes I slip into the mindset that God won't hear just me, or do something for just me. But, if I have enough people asking with me, then he'll notice. He's clearly breaking me of this.

So I went down to the office this morning, nervous, with nothing but my lease, my original receipt, and my sole prayer, and within FIVE MINUTES, they'd agreed to make the correction. I didn't need even one argument. PRAISE JESUS! He fought my battle and I got to have peace instead of anxiety.

So often I try and put on football pads and hit the field, when God wants to win the game for me. I'm made to be a cheerleader, and I've gotten more than one concussion when I forget that. But he never gives up or walks away from the sidelines. He just coughs quietly, then points to my abandoned pom-poms, and runs out in my place to kick butt and take names, no matter who the foe is.

Thank you, Lord, for your patience with my meager faith. Thank you for being for me. For granting me favor. Thank you for all the good you have stored up for those who love you. Like me. Please forgive my unbelief and help me with it.  Get my paltry self out of your glorious way. All my love.