It’s okay to be mad at God. Catastrophic events such as the death of a loved one, loss of a job, a divorce, or a miscarriage can make us angry at God.
Some people will even doubt Him or their faith. We often wonder WHY God lets us go through such devastating and challenging times.
For me, I became extremely angry at God when I miscarried in church. After having my son, I experienced 6 miscarriages before going through IVF. The fertility clinic I had chosen was among the best in the world and was out of state. I had gone through two months of rigorous and grueling protocols of 8 daily shots, pills and hormone patches. My husband and I would alternate shots each day clockwise around my stomach because it was bruised in a rainbow of colors and was sore to the touch. There was the enormous expense of not only the tests, drugs, surgeries and procedures of being infertile and going through IVF, but travel expenses.
There was so much at stake. I had put a tremendous amount of pressure on myself to make sure this worked. Lucky pregnancy number seven, right? After the embryo transfer, it was a time of constant prayer, bedrest, worry and wait. Just two weeks later, we did receive word that we were pregnant!
When I was seven weeks along, my husband and I shared our happy news with our regular Sunday school class. The very next week, we were in class chatting about prayer requests when I felt that awful, familiar cramping.
“No way,” I thought to myself.
I got up and headed purposefully to the little bathroom across the hallway from our classroom. I sat down on the toilet, closed my eyes and said a prayer before I looked down. When I opened my eyes, there it was — blood swirling in the toilet bowl.
“Damnit!” My words echoed in the tiny bathroom built almost a hundred years ago.
After several minutes of passing clots and blood, I stuffed some toilet paper into my underwear and left the stall. I looked at myself in the mirror as I washed my hands. My face was a hot red. I was raging mad like I had never been before. I stormed out of the bathroom and angrily threw my purse down on a chair as I walked back into the classroom and sat next to my husband.
“We have to go. I’m miscarrying,” I told him.
The room fell dead silent. My husband was shocked. He didn’t say a word, nor did anyone else. We picked up our 6-year old son from his Sunday school class and walked down the three flights of stairs that today seemed endless.
Once we were home, I locked myself in our bedroom and I started to cry. I was SO mad at God in this moment. And I told him so.
“WHY??” I screamed to God. So many emotions flooded over me. I simply could not believe that the miscarriage happened in church. How could God let that happen? Then my mind quickly switched to my husband.
My poor husband. He was such a pillar of strength for me through all of this – the miscarriages, the D&C’s, surgeries, giving me shots, my mood swings. Then there was the enormous expense and sacrifice we had made. And my body failed us – again. I felt so guilty. I felt so sad. I felt horrible for the way I told him that we miscarried. Sad for me, sad for my husband, and for our little boy who desperately wanted to a sibling. Sad to make that phone call to our parents who had been on this roller coaster with us.
“You gave me a sign! A clear cut sign that this was the path I was supposed to take! How could this happen? How could you let this happen again? Haven’t we been through enough?”
Scripture teaches us that God “allows” pain, sorrow, affliction, illness, persecution, even death – but He does not cause it. However, He will use these experiences to strengthen us. When I was going through this traumatic miscarriage, I was infuriated at God. But I didn’t turn my back on Him. I still loved Him and turned to Him even though I was angry.
I don’t know that I even saw Him as “responsible” for what happened. I was mad that He allowed it when I had been in the trenches of prayer.
The truth was, I was angry with God because I didn’t get my way… when I wanted it.
When we are denied things which we desire, we get angry. And that is okay. I allowed myself to be angry for an entire week. I knew that God could handle it. When we are mad at God, it is best to share our feelings with Him and face our emotions. When we are honest with Him, it connects us with Him on a deeper level.
I don’t have all of the answers. But I know this – God loves us. He doesn’t punish us. He knows our greatest desires and our inner most thoughts. He cares about us and has our good in mind. He is for us, not against us.
Although I was absolutely enraged and incensed at God, I eventually shed that emotion. I loved God, and I had to trust His plan. God knew my heart’s desire to have more children. I found it within myself to completely relent and turn it over to Him. When we do that, it shows that we trust Him, His plan and His timing.
Believe me, it was the most challenging thing for me to take a deep breath and hand over my worry to God. When I did, I felt a huge sense of relief. I prayed these two scriptures:
“Wait upon the Lord, and He shall renew thy strength as an eagle’s, they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” Isaiah 40:31
“For ye have need of patience, that, after ye have done the will of God, ye might receive the promise.” Hebrews 10:36
I didn’t sit back and do nothing. Being patient does not mean being passive. In fact, it is quite the opposite. I continued to pray every day, confess my heart’s desire to have another child and ask God to take away my barrenness.
God’s work is never hurried. We can’t let God’s beauty of design be spoiled. Although I didn’t dream that God’s timing would be having twins in my 40’s (ha), that is in fact how it happened. And I wouldn’t change a thing. My faith is strengthened, my relationships have deepened and I have gained so much wisdom and progressed so much as a human being.
The moral of the story: Wait upon the Lord! We have to have complete dependence on Him and willingness to allow Him to decide the terms; how and when.