I gazed my eyes back on the screen as the worship team continued the song, leading the congregation to praise Him.
She knew for sure I wasn't okay. I was not the usual mom she sees at church during worship. My body was not dancing with the music. I didn't open my mouth to sing. I didn't raise my hands to praise. I stood beside her like a statue.
I wasn't okay, and it's okay. I got to church with this raging feeling inside. Several minutes before that, I was at home, mad. Little things ticked me. I snapped at the girls. My husband too. Usually, I manage to resolve these kind of feelings on our way to church. But today, I decided to be stubborn. I decided to feed those feelings.
While the worship started, I just stood there for minutes. I sulked. I was throwing tantrums inside me. I was like in a "terrible-twos" kind of outburst, but in a silent way. I tried to read the lyrics of the song. Some words penetrated my disordered heart. Some spilled to nothingness.
Despite my messy thoughts and stormy emotions, I anchored myself to one truth. My Father loves me despite of my fit. I hear Him say, "It's okay." And He's right there, patiently waiting for me to run to Him whenever I am ready. He's right there, arms ready to receive me. In situations like this, I sometimes think of how spoiled I am because the God of the universe waits for me. He understands me. He doesn't demand to pull myself together right there and then. He waits. He never leaves. That is probably the reason why sometimes, I just allow myself to wallow in my emotions and feel the outburst like a child who didn't get what she wants. All because I know deep inside, that to my Father, it's okay to feel that way. That doesn't change His love for me anyway. That's how secure I am.
I am loved no matter what.
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