Sometimes I Scream at God

I must admit it’s true. Most of these screaming fits occur in the middle of the night after everyone else is asleep and my mind refuses to shut down. If you’re wondering why I don’t awaken everyone in my house, it is only because my screaming fits occur almost exclusively  inside my head. Ironically it’s usually in the midst of such fits that God speaks to me most clearly.

I must admit it’s true. Most of these screaming fits occur in the middle of the night after everyone else is asleep and my mind refuses to shut down. If you’re wondering why I don’t awaken everyone in my house, it is only because my screaming fits occur almost exclusively  inside my head. Ironically it’s usually in the midst of such fits that God speaks to me most clearly.

The screaming fit that prompted me to write about this strange phenomenon happened in January 2006. I can remember it clearly. Darren was snoring, Jacob was snoring, I was screaming. We had just received the call that we were cleared to travel to Russia on the first of three trips related to our adoption of Stella (then called Yulia). We had already fallen in love with her just looking at her precious face in pictures and felt a bit like pros at the adoption process, having already adopted Jacob from Russia in 2003. Our day had been spent mailing off visa applications (not the credit card!), purchasing plane tickets, and making arrangements for Jacob who was 3 at the time, to stay with grandparents while we were gone.

The conversation in my head started benign enough: "We should leave Jacob little presents to open everyday while we are gone and make sure to send him cards in the mail. How many days will we be gone? [Counting…] Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday…..EIGHT DAYS!"

The capital letters indicate the beginning of the screaming, if you couldn’t tell. "EIGHT DAYS! I CANNOT LEAVE JACOB FOR EIGHT DAYS! I’M HIS MOTHER!" Then comes the reply; : "But you’re her mother now too." Whether it’s me carrying on a conversation with myself in my head or God speaking to me at this point is anyone’s guess.

(Here is where you see the heart of my dillemma that night and during those few months of waiting until the adoption was finalized. Darren expressed our turmoil quite perfectly at one point when he said: "It’s hard having two children–two toddlers at that–who live on two different continents.")

The screaming continues (and to those of you who actually do take care of my children, please don’t take offense. I wasn’t exactly rational at this point in the wee hours of the night!): SERIOUSLY! EIGHT DAYS! HOW CAN I DO THIS? NOBODY KNOWS HIM LIKE I DO! NOBODY ELSE CAN TELL WHAT HE’S THINKING BEFORE HE THINKS IT! NO ONE ELSE KNOWS HOW TO CALM HIM; COMFORT HIM; HOW TO HELP HIM SETTLE DOWN WHEN HE’S TIRED! NO ONE KNOWS HIM LIKE I DO AND NO ONE WILL PROTECT HIM LIKE I DO!!!!"

Then I heard a reply that I knew was from God when He said: "No one……except Me."

So, I quit screaming and fell asleep.