Is my Hope in Him?

I get easily frustrated. My frustration easily turns into over-exaggerated statements on how awful my life is. For example, when I first checked in to my new hotel next to my new store, they put me in a smoking room. "Don't worry," the lady at the front desk said, "it's been pre-treated." After one minute in that hotel room, I decided there wasn't enough "pre-treatment" in the world to get rid of the smokey smell of that room. They told me to keep checking at the front desk, that eventually a non-smoking room would open up and it could be mine. I was determined to be okay with the situation, until I walked into the bathroom. My room was also handicap accessible. Meaning, the shower was comprised of mainly a huge bench and there was no counter space in the bathroom. The counter space dilemma, as shallow as it sounds, was enough to send me over the edge. I called my mom crying, and she tried to get me to look at the positives which only sent me spinning into an even more exaggerated explanation of how awful Pittsburgh was and how I was never going to like it. All because of counter space.

Then, last night, I had a craving for Papa Johns. I get those a lot. So I googled the Papa John's closest to me and called for a pick-up order. Eight miles from my hotel- easy enough right? After being 45 minutes late to pick up my pizza due to traffic, I finally found the street it was on. No Papa Johns. My GPS, Tucker, lied. He seems to do that a lot in Pittsburgh. Actually, at this point it was pouring down rain and I was pouring down tears so I very well could have driven right past it. But I was in no mood to search for Papa Johns. Instead, I dwelled on the fact that if I were in State College, when google said 8 miles, it would mean roughly 10 minutes, not 60. Yet again I cried to my mom and yet again she tried to get me to look at the positives. A common theme in my life recently, actually a common theme in my life period. But of course, my head already went to the negatives, the exaggerations. I was in no mood to listen to her rational logic.

When I talked to my dad this morning, he asked me which Sarah he was talking to. I pretended to be annoyed but in reality I was pretty disgusted with myself. After getting off the phone with him, I started thinking about why I had been finding my security in the "Sarah" both of my parents dreaded talking to. The most obvious reason- my quiet times have been nonexistent. Last Sunday I drove to a church after having a solid quiet time with God. It was an evening service and I was really hoping God was bringing me to a body of believers whom I could relate to. People who I could find fellowship with. When I pulled into the church, the parking lot was empty. I suppose their evening services are cancelled in the summer. I took that as God being silent in my life. Like God didn't really care whether or not I found fellowship.

I know that's wrong. But it's pretty easy to go on believing that especially when I wasn't sharing those thoughts with anyone who would keep me accountable. My dear friend Betsy had sent out an e-mail the same day I drove to an empty church. I was mad enough at God that I didn't pay much attention to the verse that she wrote out. But today, I reread it.

"The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. The Lord is my portion, says my soul, therefore I will hope in Him."
Lamentations 3:22-25

It hurt to read it, because I have not been believing this truth. His love has not ceased because I haven't found an apartment or a church- though I find myself thinking that all too often. I have had 3 weeks of mornings in Pittsburgh and only a handful of times (okay like 2-3) have I woken up and dwelled on his mercies. And the Lord certainly hasn't been my portion nor have I placed my hope in him. If the Lord were my portion, I would be content with the fact that for now, he is all I have in Pittsburgh. That for now, my fellowship must be through Skype and my church time must be via podcast or in an empty parking lot. That for now, my quiet times must be alone in a coffee shop rather than with some of my closest friends and accountability partners across from me. In fact, I should be rejoicing in this time. Because for now, he is truly all I have in Pittsburgh- what a wonderful time to get so lost in Him! I have no other distractions! I have been discouraged in that, rather than hopeful.

Whenever things haven't gone my way, when an apartment has fallen through or a 8 mile drive takes 80 minutes, my automatic thought has been, "Pittsburgh sucks, God probably hates Pittsburgh too, I'll never like it here blah blah blah." I want to train my mind, and my heart, to automatically think, "The Lord is my portion, I will hope in Him." When my hope is in him, everything else seems less important. If you've read any of my other posts, you know my aversion to change. It's hard to put my hope in things, when they are constantly changing. So instead, I tend to lose hope. How different would life be, if I put my hope in the one thing that has never and will never change- my creator. Easier said than done, but I have a feeling my parents will continue to remind me to do so (I'll say thank you for that now, since I never do in the moment). And I have an even bigger feeling that I'll have a lot of free time to work on it.

The Lord is my portion, says my soul, therefore I will hope in Him.