#14: Spark of Wisdom: It's Ok to be Mad at God
Tina Marie shares a Spark of Wisdom with It’s OK to be Mad at God.
Trascription:
Hi there, Tina Murray here. And I'm so glad we're together for a short moment. So I wanted to share this spark of wisdom today with you, as it touched my soul as well. And I'm reading from a book called God, never blinks. God never blinks 50 lessons for life's little detours. Isn't it awesome. And it's by author Regina, Brett B R E T T. God, never blinks. And this is an amazing little book that one of those that I love, like you can open it up to a page and it speaks to you in that time. Right? You could also read it, cover to cover. However, I love to keep these gems on my bookshelf. So when I reach over there in the morning reading moments that I can pull a book off the shelf and then it speaks to me in that moment. And so I wanted to share what came through today.
This title in lesson eight is called it's okay to get angry with God. He can take it. And it says here, when was the last time you got angry with God, we're not supposed to get mad at God, right? Hilson, hellfire, and brimstone, hell fire. I can picture. But what exactly is brimstone growing up Catholic? The author writes, I never heard any priest grant us permission to rage against the God. Our job was to fear God God's job was to scare us. And so where have you been on your relationship with God? I remember there was a time in my life where I really got mad at God. I mean, I got so mad. I picked up a chair. I was in my meditation room and that meditation room at times was my writing place where I would write at a desk. And I had an office chair there that had the big, heavy wooden base with five wheels on the bottom.
It was a very heavy chair and a leather chair very well-made and I in my rage, in my absolute hostility toward what I call now, the invisible substance and that which seemed to have an intelligence and a knowing far beyond my own. I picked up that chair and flung it and it, I flung it at least eight feet, which, you know, even as I, after I did it, I didn't know where that power came from, but that chair hit the wall and the, the base of that chair, the, the wooden frame of it, and the wheels went into the sheet rock and just hung there. It got, it, got trapped into the sheet rock and those wheels were spinning. And the, the clunk of the, the top of the chair hit the base of the wall. And, and I just fell to my knees crying and sobbing, and I was so enraged.
And so I felt so powerless over something I could not see and did not understand life felt unfair. And that was the time when my father had passed away at the age of 49. Now, for those that don't know, my father was my hero. I was daddy's little girl, and I loved him so very much. And we were just getting to the place where I had an understanding of life and could take in more of the philosophical nature of my father and of life and have these deep rooted conversations that just filled my soul. I loved sitting with him and hearing his beliefs and understanding his view of the world, which was a beautiful view of our world. He was a contributory man, always at the helm of a, some type of fundraiser and uniting people. He was a community builder and he, he just stood for this goodness of the human soul.
I'm so grateful to have had him as my father. And so at his age, 49 and I was 23, he passed and I was enraged. I was so mad at God. How could you possibly take this man at this age? What are you thinking? What good did this do to the world? You Rob the world of an angel on earth that was doing your work. What reason is this happening at this time? And I happened to have been pregnant with the first grandchild of our family, and it was going to be his grandson. He never got to see one of his grandchildren and there was just so much pain in that moment. And I remember I declared there with my knees on the floor, in my meditation room, with my, my spine and my body just contorted down to the, to the ground with the tears, drenching, my face and my shirt and my, my voice was raw.
And I had no more words. I vowed that I would not believe in God that God was a fictitious belief. There is no need to waste my time there. I got mad and I abandoned any faith. And he looked toward that. I sealed the door, my meditation room. I sealed the door on my spirituality. I sealed the door on my creativity because that was also in that room. My paintings, my drawings, my poetry, my writing, I sealed the door on it. And I remember not ever wanting to go back in that room. We did have to fix the wall yet. That room turned into my son's bedroom. He moved into that and I abandoned for many years, the sense of a spiritual direction. I just said, screw it. It's not worth it. It's an illusion. It's nothing because if they can take my father, if it can, then it has no empathy.
It has no love. It's not made of that. We can get mad at that sense of a higher being because of the tragedy that we experienced because of the wrongs that we see in our world, because of things that do not seem fair, right? Two and a half years later, my mother passes. She was 59 and I did have my son and, and, you know, she just loved her little grandson. I saw her miss dad so much, but then she passed. And at that point in my life here, I was 26, 25. I had no parent any longer. And that was another feeling of, of disappointment of, of rage. And instead of abandoning God again, or resealing that commitment instead, what happened was God spoke to me despite all the pain in my life. God spoke to me and said, you are not alone because I believed I was so alone.
My parents are gone now, who do I have? I have my brother, but it wasn't my mother or my father. And I felt like my life I had, I remember that the belief was my life will never be full. My life will never be as loving as I'd love it to be. I, my, my sense in my vision of a big family and family reunions and all this wonderful, you know, taking care of my parents, whenever they're in their old age, all of it had burst. The bubble had burst the picture and burst the vision and burst. And it really, really burst. And I felt empty. And then the voice came in. He was always there. I just didn't look in that direction. And despite my pain, it spoke to me, it said very loudly. And very clearly you are not alone.
And it was comforting. And I knew what that voice was because we'd had a relationship once my meditations were deep before, and I had these beautiful conversations with God and spirit and angels, and I heard literally choirs of angels. And my meditation is the absolute, beautiful resonance of something that I can't even produce, or even have words to describe. And I, I longed for that. Again, secretly not wanting to let myself know that I missed my relationship with God. However, God knew that I missed the relationship. And in my deepest, darkest time, in my deepest pain, he echoed through my soul and said, you are not alone. So in your journey, wherever that feeling, it's not working. It's not good. It's not going to work for me. It's, you know, whatever those limiting beliefs are, I suggest looking them in the eye and turning your problems and your beliefs over to God.
God has never left us. We are always connected that fallacy of that, you know, I need to go find my connection again, or I need to reinstill my connection, or I need to strengthen my connection. It's never weakened. It's always there. It's consistent. It says trusted as the air. We breathe that whenever you breathe in, do you doubt that the next breath will be available? Do you doubt that when you walk from one room to the next that will there be enough oxygen to sustain me? Do you doubt that when you go from outside into a building, that there will be no oxygen to sustain you and to allow you to live. We don't have that thought God is as present as your breath.
And I learned that and I shared that with you. So in the spark of wisdom, more God never blinks in chapter eight where it calls to us and says, it's okay to get angry with God. He can take it. Hopefully my story resonates with you and has, you know, that no matter where you are, God is always there ready, willing, and always with open arms resourcing you, we just simply need to look in that direction. So once I heard his calling again, I apologized and I said, I'll never abandon you again. I'm so sorry. And it was like a hug came over me. Then it felt like a hug, not only from God in the universe, but it definitely felt like a hug from my parents. And my parents had visited me many times in my dreams and in my meditations. And sometimes I smell my mother, you know, whenever I'm walking or I will have this understanding that I want to just have a touch of mom for a little while and I'll smell cinnamon rolls, or I'll smell home baked bread, or I'll smell her cologne.
And sometimes I feel a graceful touch across the shoulder and across the arm reminding me, we're close, we're here. You're never alone. And it gives me that strength to go on that strength, to know that what I'm building and what my my soul says is right, is true. And I love those little bitty markers. Don't you to keep us on our journey, keep us on our path. Even when it looks hard, when it looks impossible, reach to those things that are always here and resilient with you forever. Thank you so much for listening and I will be with you again on the podcast on let your life to help with any sparks of wisdom, fireside chats, and definitely those moments from our coaches corner. Tina Marie St. Sierra here, checking out. Thanks.
