This morning during my quiet time I pondered times when I was angry with God. I mean, cussing, screaming, red-faced angry. Most often it was because I wanted something He didn’t give me: a quick answer to prayer, easier circumstances, answers to my ever-persistent, “Why, God?” questions.
This morning I read Day 16 in Shaunti Feldhahn’s devotional “Find Joy”, titled “Every Life Has a Story.” It’s about how we often go through life in such a hurry that we miss the people passing by.
I wanted to be sure my parents knew how sorry I was, and that I realized how mean I’d been over the years
Why are we always the meanest to those who love us the most?
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