It has never been difficult for me to apologize. In general, if someone tells me that he or she was hurt or offended by something I’ve done-- whether or not it was my intention-- I apologize. I figure when someone is hurt who cares about intentions the point is they are hurt. In fact, I am almost certain I have apologized in situations where I should have stood up for myself and my actions. But that isn’t what this post is about. This post is about the time I didn’t apologize because I was too proud.
When I decided to move to New York, I did so on a whim: I had no job, no housing, and no friends (I did, however, have an uncle who lived there). The move was so abrupt that I didn’t even know I was doing it a day before I made the decision. While making the move was hard, it was worth it. God showed up and showed off in the most amazing ways. I secured a home four days before moving to the big city, I found a church two months after moving and subsequently made a few friends there, and I was recruited for a job three months after moving. I met some fantastic people in New York; I love them dearly. God is a faithful Father and He has proven his faithfulness to me time and time again. And just like I moved to New York, I have decided to move to Phoenix. Why you ask? I don’t know. Your guess is as good as mine.
The past couple of weeks, I have been studying the life of David and Saul. The story has all of the twist and turns of an action packed thriller. There is betrayal, a love story, and heartache. I’ve read this story dozens of times, and while I know exactly where it’s going and precisely how it ends, different themes jump out of its pages with each revisit. Generally, I comb through David’s life and look for the similarities and the differences to that of my own. Every time I finished reading the story, I came to the same conclusion: I want to be like David. I want to be a woman after God’s own heart. How noble.
However, this time when reading the script, I felt more like Saul: abandoned by God.