We are a little afraid of you. Some people I know are angry about you.
You don’t answer their prayer. And you answer the prayer of other people. And people who don’t even pray get what they want. And it’s not right. It seems.
And you act really angry sometimes. At least we read that in the Bible.
And so, people say that if you are the kind of God that swallows up people in the ground, they don’t want to believe in you.
Sometimes I understand what they are saying, even if I don’t agree with them.
Because it takes explaining to understand the ground opening up.
We confess that we don’t understand.
We confess that we don’t like you sometimes.
We confess that we don’t understand you ever.
We confess that we think we understand you often.
We confess that we are caught between doubt and fear and hopefulness and uncertainty.
But also, we are challenged, Jesus, by your graciousness to the ones who killed you and to people like Paul who wanted to kill your followers.
We would love to know that you aren’t angry with us, that you hear us, that you are with us.
We would love to be sure that when you say, “follow me” it’s an invitation to be with you, not a scolding obligation.
We would love to rest in the knowledge that you know best and love best and care most and protect us.
Because we would love to rest in you.
Let us rest in you, Emmanuel, God with us.