Prelude to a Pit: Chaos

**Just getting started? Head back to day 1 of Prelude to a Pit: Just Another Day to hear the story from the beginning**

It's a Saturday at 6 pm. I'm hot with anger.

Lord, where are You?

~~~

The TV was off, black and mute.  The faint smell of baked chicken lingered in the air.  The dishes waded in the sink.  I had attempted to pretty myself that day after a few days of no sleep, but the mask of confusion and despair overshadowed what measley efforts I'd given.

My heart was thumping over a hundred times a minute.  A numbness planted in the middle of my chest swept ferociously through my veins, reaching the crown of my head, the length of each finger, and weighed my legs with profound gravitas.

My brain was saying I couldn't move, yet my lips couldn't quit protesting, first calmly but gradually building with passion.

The storm was here.  The bomb had dropped.

And though fresh and clean and smelling of home, the room had become a disaster site.

But my pleas were no better than shouting at the raindrops, who can't understand and only fall where the cloud drops them.

My thoughts cowered under how the future would look, how the next five minutes would look.

I didn't understand.

Why, Lord?  Why me?  Why now?  Why at all?

He doesn't answer.  And He lets the rain fall.  The thunder roar.

Just because life moves from mundane to chaos doesn't mean He has looked away or lost the reins.  He is just as much in control when the wind is raging as He is when it is quiet and gentle.  He runs the days of oppressive heat, when the clouds won't come for comfort.  He ordains the frigid days of winter, when the clouds won't relent.  He orchestrates the falling of each leaf and the blooming of each bud.

He designed it all.  Just as it should be.

And He's written the words and days of your life, just as they should be.  He knew that with the turn of a page, my life would fall down, down, down in a pit that only He knew the way out of.

Ashes that only He could beautify.

Brokenness that only He could heal.

He is sovereign.  Don't let the chaos lie to you.

Circumstances are liars like that.  They speak to the immediate and temporal.  They know only the present, and they fear doom and gloom of the future.  

Hope is absent, if you ask the chaos.

But God is silent, you say.  

Yes, I know.  He may be for quite some time.  But silence doesn't equal absence.  It doesn't equal a deaf ear.  It doesn't equal a heart that is hardened to your hurt.

He sees the chaos.  He even let it in through the door.  And He looks to see what you focus on, what you trust--the chaos?

Or the Creator?

**Tune in tomorrow night at 7 pm for day 3, Prelude to a Pit: A Question Mark**