S.L., I appreciated your comment. I’m glad the term “ambivalent” resonated with someone; my relationship with God has so often been characterized by sharply conflicting feelings and desires.

Kaimi, those lines are from “Come Thou Font of Every Blessing”, right? I love that hymn, too.

Janet, I love your analogy–the “I’ll break up with you before you can break up with me” move has been a part of my dealings with God often than I’d care to admit. I also very much enjoyed that bit from your essay; that’s beautiful. I’m intrigued by that connection between heartbreak and grace; I’d like to explore that further.

Hi, Fideline! I can so much relate to being in a situation in which I am highly reluctant to embark on something even while feeling that it is the course I should take. I wish you well on your path. And like your friend, I’ll send out a search party if you disappear near a body of water. Thanks also for the note about the poem; it’s fun to hear about different ways the story has been re-told.

Mark IV, that’s very much how I’ve felt in my relationship with God; honestly, I’ve often thought that my belief is more a matter of resignation, of giving in, than anything else. (Which raises its own set of questions about volition and belief, but that’s probably worth its own post.)

The Lord says to Jonah, “You are upset at the destruction of the vine, which you neither made nor grew. Should I be any less upset at the prospect of the desctruction of 120,000 people, who I did make (even though they are so stupid they can’t tell the difference between their right and left hands (but I love them anyway)) and all their domestic animals, which I also made (and which I love at least as much as I love sparrows (Luke 12:6,7))?” I don’t think the mention of the cattle indicates anything missing.

I had to smile when I read your post about Jonah. I have been thinking a lot about this book of the Bible recently. Mostly because I am feeling guilty that I am feeling so reluctant and fearful about facing a future that I received spiritual direction to pursue.

I have been thinking that maybe Jonah was deeply afraid of losing his life if he went to Ninevah; what if he had tried it before with disasterous results? As readers of the Bible, we have the narrative distance to perceive Jonah’s flawed perception of his future in contrast to God’s omniscience. It is so easy to criticize Jonah in Sunday School, but it has been humbling to see myself in Jonah. I can only hope that, despite previous experiences that warn me that I am embarking on a path that will exhaust my emotional and spiritual reserves, that God will be merciful with my weaknesses. Janet, thank you for sharing the excerpt from your essay.

Recently, I mentioned in jest to a friend that I was feeling like Jonah. He promised to send out divers to search Lake Michigan if I fail to meet the moving van on the other side of the country.

A side note about a fascinating retelling of this Bible story: An anonymous poet wrote about Jonah’s predicament in the 1390s in a Northwest Midland dialect of Middle English. This poem is titled “Patience” by modern editors. The characterizations of God and Jonah are ironic and humerous, especially in the context of the stoic patience advocated by the narrator. My favorite translation is by Marie Borroff.

Eventually, I realized that I needed to be broken. If it hadn’t happened on my mission, some other event would have someday forced me to face the reality, doctrinal and physical, that “all we can do” is sometimes very little and that the groundwork for understanding the atonement is often laid in desolation. Elisabeth Elliot, who served as a missionary to the Quichua and Waorani Indians of Ecuador and whose missionary husband was slaughtered by the latter, wrote of her life’s tragedy:

Faith begins in the wilderness when you are alone and afraid, when things don’t make sense…In the wilderness of loneliness we are terribly vulnerable…But we may be missing the fact that it is here..here where we may learn to love HIM, here where it seems He is not at work, where His will seems obscure and frightening, where He is not doing what we expected Him to do…If faith does not go to work here it will not go to work at all. God’s answer is always “Trust me.”

Simply put, heartbreak teaches us about grace. Heartbreak even brings grace. When we are broken, we are open to God.

Love the post. And I’ve always thought the story quite funny as well.

That reminds me of one of my favorite hymn lines:

“Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
prone to leave the God I love;”

Thanks for this post, Lynnette — I enjoyed it.

God has always accompanied me into my darkness forays.