Angry Conversations with God by Susan E. Isaacs

Author:Susan E. Isaacs
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: REL012000
ISBN: 9780446544696
Publisher: FaithWords
Published: 2009-03-11T23:00:00+00:00

One Sunday morning Pastor Craig started his sermon as he often did—with an illustration from a movie. He’d just seen a black comedy with spiritual overtones that he felt we could learn some lessons from. The Addams Family. My gut dropped to my sneakers.

I chased down Pastor Craig as soon as he left the podium. “The Addams Family?!”

He smiled. “I laughed so hard. Yeah, it was dark, but true too, ya know?”

“Pastor Craig, that’s the film I had the horrifying dream about: the Grim Reaper dream. I thought God was telling me I shouldn’t do it, and you said I needed to listen.”

“Well, maybe watching a film and acting in it are two different things.”

“Maybe? I alienated a casting director who would have kept me working.”

“Suze, God’s ways are not our ways. You gotta wait on God.”

“Yes, Pastor Craig. Everyone in this church talks about waiting on God. And I have. I’ve gotten healed. I’ve healed my inner child; I’ve healed my father wound; I’ve fathered my wounded healer. You know what I haven’t done? I haven’t lived, not outside this church. My non-Christian friends are going after life; they’re not waiting on God. And their lives look a lot better than mine.”

“You know Psalm seventy-three,” he answered. “‘I envied the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked.’”

“My friends aren’t arrogant or wicked. But they are working!”

“Well, Suze, I’d rather be on fire for Jesus in the unemployment line than doing some cush job for Satan.”

“So you see a film and it’s funny, but if I act in it, I’m working for Satan?”

“Sorry, bad analogy. I don’t know the answer. But I know God does. Have you told him how you really feel?”

“I just told you. Doesn’t that count?”

Then Pastor Craig told me about a conference at a church a couple of hours away where people were hearing from God, getting healed, “getting their doors blown off, man. You should go. It’s never too late for God to show up.”

I’d had amazing things happen to me at conferences. Just because I had to break up with a guy or miss out on a movie, I shouldn’t harden my heart and miss the gift God had for me. So I humbled my sore-loser ass and prayed: “Lord, I am going to trust you. If you have some wisdom or revelation or healing for me…or even if you just want me to be with you, I will show up.”

So I drove out to the city of Irwindale, a landlocked town an hour east of Los Angeles and home of the largest rock quarry west of Pittsburgh. Brush fires had been burning so the skies were red with smoke. The church was in an industrial park of prefab-concrete warehouses: a plastics manufacturer, a data processing plant, and a church. It felt like Costco for Christ.

I arrived to find a rock band playing. Some bodybuilders stood in front, breaking up blocks of concrete to show the power of Christ to break the bonds of sin.

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