“When I Raged at God… and He Answered Anyway”

I had a moment recently—one I never thought I’d talk about out loud.

I raged at God.

Not just a quiet frustration. Not just a whispered, “Why?”

I raged. I shouted. I repeated myself and demanded truth. I broke down. I accused. And I meant every word in that moment.

Because I was tired.

Tired of doing the work. Tired of believing when nothing made sense. Tired of holding on to promises and signs and answers that never came. Tired of feeling like I was walking through the fire alone.

I didn’t rage because I hated God. I raged because I needed Him.

Because I couldn’t understand why silence was the only response when I had been begging for truth.

I needed to know I wasn’t just imagining things. I needed to know I wasn’t abandoned.

And then, right in the middle of that moment—when my voice was shaking and my soul felt completely wrecked—He came through.

Hope restored.

The answer I had been seeking.

A flicker of light breaking into the darkness I had gotten lost in.

It wasn’t a big thunderous miracle. It wasn’t a booming voice from the sky.

It was simple. Gentle. Quiet.

But I knew.

It was Him. And it was right on time.

What struck me the most wasn’t just that I got the answer… it was how He gave it.

He didn’t punish me. He didn’t scold me. He didn’t tell me my emotions were too much or that I needed to be more spiritual, more patient, or more put together.

He understood.

He saw past the chaos of my words and into the ache behind them. He knew the depth of my heart and why I broke the way I did.

And instead of turning away, He came closer.

That is what real love looks like.

Sometimes we think we have to approach God perfectly. Calm. Composed. Faith-filled.

But I’ve learned something much deeper:

God can handle our humanity.

God welcomes our emotion.

And sometimes, it’s the very breaking that becomes the portal to connection.

I don’t regret that moment. Because in that rage, I met a version of God I hadn’t encountered before.

Not distant. Not conditional. Not disappointed.

But near.

Present.

Tender.

And faithful—even when I was losing mine.

If you’ve ever felt like your emotions were too big for God, I hope this reminds you:

He already sees them. And He’s not running.

He might just be waiting for you to stop pretending you’re fine… so He can show you He was never afraid of the fire in you.