Don't ponder angst about the past without God

http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/050619.cfm
Acts 6:8-15
John 6:22-29

How difficult can it be to focus upon God? Once we have been given the gift of faith, and then after we have experienced God’s love in healing and repair, and then finally when the presence of God can no longer be ignored, how hard can living with God actually be?

Pretty basic, huh? Should be easy peasy. “Hi, God. Glad you’re here. Say, what’s up next?”

The progression of the life-changing process of faith, healing, and God's very real presence seems to be a perfect formula for a successful relationship with the divine. Faith accepted, and then poured into us by the Holy Spirit leads to awareness of God’s actions in our lives, which then leads to God’s all-consuming presence. And, we’re all good, filled up, and holy.

So, what’s all the angst about? What’s the big deal with life’s slings and arrows if we know that God is not only aware of what we’re going through but is also right there to help us through it?

And now for the clang clang, crack, fizzle and pop of “reality.” Here’s a three-way sad song riddled reminder of what likely takes away our focus on God. Loss, failure, and sin — wrapped up in our relationships — is remembered, lived, and fully expected to happen for the rest of our lives. We suffer the awful truth of our limitations and fleeting existence. We ponder our lack of goodness.

First, there is love’s sweet sorrow, the pang of fragile relationships, sung in painful weariness by Bill Withers:

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
It's not warm when she's away
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
And she's always gone too long
Anytime she goes away

There’s also parental sorrow, day’s gone by, the failure of being faithful to our loved ones, warbled by Harry Chapin:

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man in the moon
"When you coming home, dad?" "I don't know when"
But we'll get together then
You know we'll have a good time then

Oh, and It gets more emotional. There’s the moan of confused loyalties, crooned out by Judy Collins, broken-hearted by affair-ridden relationships and the seeming boredom and trapped life of commitment:

Isn't it rich?
Are we a pair?
Me here at last on the ground,
You in mid-air,
Where are the clowns?Isn't it bliss?
Don't you approve?
One who keeps tearing around,
One who can't move,
Where are the clowns?
There ought to be clowns?

Who hasn't drowned in the angst of these songs? The resilient, I suppose. The practical. The constantly vigilant, keeping their hearts protected from emotional attack. I like to think of myself like that; and then one of these songs pops up and reminds me. I may think I'm an unbreakable coffee mug, but I shatter when dropped.

And that's the blurriness of our window into God. We contemplate our sins, our failures, and our sorrows. We're woeful and uncertain that God could love us. Worse, God will hammer us silly if he realizes how awful some of our past (and present!) life has been.

Dear fellow Christ followers and believers, those of us who “desire” and “feel” and “know” that God fills our hearts. Angst, guilt, and worry bends our focus into places where we don’t purposely conclude that God is not with us. We don't realize all of a sudden that we're abandoned. God knows we're reminded of our failures. I believe God is OK that we revisit these moments. It's just that we need to take God with us when we do.

God is not missing. He’s not just there with us, he’s seriously interested in being with us through each and every emotional harangue and sorrow. Each and every physical horror, too. Actually, each and every everything. There’s nothing where he’s not engaged with us. 

Even in our sin. 

Aaackk. 

That’s my shocking recognition sound. You can probably hear me making it; or, maybe you, too. When I’m sinning God is here. Right in the middle of my chest, and flitting around in my brain, and whooshing through my veins. Again, Aaackk.

God is not shocked. We are. We are humiliated, and shocked. We are aghast and humiliated and shocked that God is not only there, but still there, and waiting for us to recognize him. 

Double Aaackk.

These are important moments for us. Not just because we’re humiliated in the eyes of God. They are important because our travails are paths to him. When we sin we have a companion who will be blunt with us. These are the obvious times when God is with us. 

“Amen, amen, I say to you, you are looking for me
not because you saw signs
but because you ate the loaves and were filled.”

That’s when we should pay attention:

“Do not work for food that perishes
but for the food that endures for eternal life,
which the Son of Man will give you.
For on him the Father, God, has set his seal." 

We should recognize these opportunities for correction. We may hear God’s message, but our response is necessary. Even if we miss the point. That's the thing about relationships. It requires communication.

"What can we do to accomplish the works of God?"

At these moments God tells us more. He doesn’t wave us off, or walk away. He fine tunes the message. 

"This is the work of God, that you believe in the one he sent."

So, it's OK to pine over whatever hails us into emotional chagrin, because God will use these relived moments to talk to us. Of course, if your emotional chagrin is life-threatening, or borders on flipping into crazy town, get some professional help. Most of what we encounter in our past, however, is failure, loss, and sin that God can help us with right now. Remember it all comes down to knowing God is there and trusting in the relationship.

"This is the work of God, that you believe in the one he sent."