How God used McDonalds to punch me in the gut.

I abandoned this blog almost as quickly as I had commenced it – noticing my tendency to write from my pride than in humility and self awareness.

I was driving this evening and recalled a day spent with one of my [soul-]closest families. Emmanuel and his family of 5. They are home to me, and if you know me well, you might know them too. They have a story you’ll never forget; seeking asylum from tribal persecution in Burundi, Africa – which made them refugees in my backyard. Family now.

Valentine’s Day of this year, I wanted my time and love spent differently. I was burdened by my frustrations with this holiday, and wanted to pour out love in a different way than just simply romantic. While my Facebook newsfeed was page after page of red roses and sweet nothings [even the week leading up to the fourteenth day of February], I felt Him say “You have deep love to give. So give it.” So I asked this family on a date. All 6 of them.

Elated, I told them to pick any place they’d always dreamed of dining! "Spare no expense, I just want to serve you and treat you."

[I had it all played out in my head: buying frilly dresses for the girls, shiny shoes and linen button ups for the boys].

“Oh. Ayleeesabit. We just wahn’ hahmbrrrgrrr…”

“Oh… well. Really?! ...Okay. We’ll get the best hamburger in Dallas, then!! Yeah!”

“No… no. Ayleeesabit. Really. We only like McDonalds. And French fries! That's what we like best.”

Internally gagging at the thought of buying them a “hamburger” at McDonalds, I knew all too well that if I forced them to have what I thought was better, it would defeat the whole purpose of me loving them in this way. I'd be forcing them to do something they didn't want, even though I was certain I could find them a better hamburger.

And immediately it was a proverbial punch in the gut. I heard Jesus telling me, 

“Here, Eli. I have this [my Spirit, my love, my faithfulness] for you. This free gift – you don’t have to work for it or earn it - just receive it. I just want to give it to you because I love you. Please take it. You’ll love it, it’s sweeter than anything you’ve ever tasted!”

And my flesh replies, "No, Jesus. I know what I want. Thank you, but I'm going to choose [this] because it's what I know."

And He responds by letting me choose. Even though I mostly fall flat on my face, He lets me choose. He offers me The Way, and I choose my way most times. 

He allowed me to see, almost like a movie, how I refuse His goodness every day. How I tend to think I know what I want. He knows what’s best, and I PRAY for God’s best – but at the end of the day, am I trusting enough to receive it?

Lately, He’s been breaking my heart. It’s one thing after another these days. I find myself weeping over Africa in the middle of the night, I weep over sex trafficking, I weep over abortion, then I weep over death… the next week I’m weeping over His broken bride, and I’m weeping over my sin, and I'm weeping over dry seasons of community, then I'm weeping over the way I fail Him daily – needless to say, it feels like I’m always in my car -- Weeping. I remember calling a girlfriend, ugly crying while leaving her a voicemail, asking her why God keeps breaking my heart. I was angry. Wondered if I was just plain broken. A friend recently joked that I should wear a sign that simply says “BROKEN”.

I’m getting to the point that I’m okay with it – brokenness, all of it. Another friend encouraged me by saying, “Eli. Don’t fret. You’re weeping over everything He is weeping over. And it’s something to celebrate, not get mad at.” I pray that I might find myself in the house of mourning; not to request or to seek out tragedy, but to be alive and active in a hurting world. Mourning with those who mourn, but simultaneously celebrating with those who celebrate. 

Am I trusting enough to receive what He has for me? Or will I choose the equivalent of McDonalds?