Have you ever felt forgotten by God? I remember one of those first hallmark moments in life when my faith collided with that dark, rumbling question at the core of so many of our disbeliefs: I know God is great. Is He really…good? This may sound as juvenile as it actually was at the time—but my moment was when I was prescribed braces and oral surgery. When the doors had opened on the first day of high school that year, they’d unveiled the extra weight I had gained from puberty, and I seemed to be the only freshman cheerleader still ignorant of how to socially survive. I was officially an outcast. Popular athletes laughed in their circles of friends after I walked past. I found myself the target of openly rude comments in conversations, after which I could think of no other option than to duck my head or offer a lousy attempt at a grin. And then, braces. God saw fit to strap some metal to my mouth, not to mention a degree of physical pain.
Memos for a Hard Thanksgiving
Memos for a Hard Thanksgiving
Memos for a Hard Thanksgiving
Have you ever felt forgotten by God? I remember one of those first hallmark moments in life when my faith collided with that dark, rumbling question at the core of so many of our disbeliefs: I know God is great. Is He really…good? This may sound as juvenile as it actually was at the time—but my moment was when I was prescribed braces and oral surgery. When the doors had opened on the first day of high school that year, they’d unveiled the extra weight I had gained from puberty, and I seemed to be the only freshman cheerleader still ignorant of how to socially survive. I was officially an outcast. Popular athletes laughed in their circles of friends after I walked past. I found myself the target of openly rude comments in conversations, after which I could think of no other option than to duck my head or offer a lousy attempt at a grin. And then, braces. God saw fit to strap some metal to my mouth, not to mention a degree of physical pain.