I Will Give You Rest

On Easter Sunday, one of my friends approached me and mentioned how much he liked this blog (because clearly, he's insane), and asked me if I would give him a shout out in my next post. I informed him that before I gave him a shout out, he would have to do something worth writing about, and because I'm mentioning him now, he obviously has. But before I tell you what he did, let me back up and tell you why what he did was necessary, and relate it to God, because that's what I do.

Allow me to start off by saying that I'm a very sympathetic person. If someone I love is hurt in some way, I feel that very acutely, especially if there's nothing I can do to help. I'm not good at sitting around and watching other people suffer. Most people aren't, I suspect. Ever since I realized I could help other people out of pickles, jams, and "situations", I've been doing it like it's going out of style. Basically, if I can help you, I will do everything in my power to help you.

This is the situation I find myself in today. Someone I love is hurt, and I can't help this person, and so I get worried and anxious. My first instinct was to take the situation to prayer, but after that, I realized my power to do anything was just about spent. However, this creates another dilemma: Now that I've taken the issue to God, how much do I trust Him to help? I've mentioned before that I have a hard time trusting God to help, especially in situations where I'm powerless to do anything, and today was no different. I practically shouted at God (in my head) in Adoration that He needed to do something, that He could not possibly allow this situation to play out according to my worst fears (it's funny how selfish a person can get when they talk to God).

When I left Adoration, I walked into the Newman Center's parlor and sat down with the friend getting the shout out. He saw me flipping out before I entered Adoration, and could see that things were not better now that I had gotten out. As I sat down on a couch, he looked at me and said, "Do you want to talk about it?" I proceeded to cry and flail and make my best fish-desperately-gasping-for-breath faces as I found the words to even begin to voice what was wrong. Once I did, he sat there as I angrily went on and on about how I came to the Newman Center for Jesus Christ. Not pettiness, not drama, not sarcasm, cruelty, or any of the garbage that has lately afflicted it, just Jesus.

I ranted and ranted until I was more or less spent from the effort, and he just sat there and listened to me tell him how hard it would be for me to trust God to fix the situation. And then he listened to me argue with myself and quote half of the New Testament. To myself. Then he amused me by making me guess all the flavors of jellybeans he was eating, chastised me like my mother once did when I made a face at a gross one, and allowed me to calm down. He didn't try to fix the situation or advise me, he just listened to what I had to say. I think it was the first time anyone has ever done that for me. He did ask if he could do anything, but when I told him no, he accepted that graciously.

I went back to my dorm shortly thereafter, and occupied myself with ironing and listening to music. I happened to come across one of about half a dozen praise and worship songs on my iPod, and it was Matt Maher's rendition of one of my favorite hymns from my youth, "Come To The Water". The hymn, for those who don't know it, is partially based on Matthew 28:11, "Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest." About this time last year, I was stressing out about similar situations that I had absolutely no control over, and in Confession, the penance I was given was to meditate on that verse. God was telling me that I could trust Him to take care of the situation. He was telling me not to worry because He knows what's going to happen, and He has a plan, a good one, to work things out.

In conclusion, I have no idea what the point of this post was. Maybe it's that I'm learning to trust God, ever so slowly. Maybe it's that I have good friends. Maybe it's that jellybeans make everything better. Or maybe God was using all of those things as a perfect storm to give my friend the shout out he wanted. I suppose I'll have to wait for Him to flesh this thing out so I can see.