Have you ever had a temper tantrum directed at God? I have. Recently. Not even a week ago, actually. It wasn’t pretty, and it was a humbling experience for sure—a bit King David-esque. Let me share my story with you because God beautifully displayed His love and redemption and grace.

Let’s rewind a bit to last Wednesday, September 10, 2025, the day Charlie Kirk was so brutally assassinated. That morning was when I first became aware of Iryna Zarutska’s horrific murder. Seeing the footage both shocked and moved me. I couldn’t get the images out of my mind. Then, a news alert on my phone requesting prayer for Charlie Kirk because he’d been shot. All day, I was glued to the news, my heart aching, trying to understand. Then another school shooting. All the while grieving the 2nd anniversary of my grandpa’s death. I couldn’t sleep well that night, all the images looping constantly through my mind, only to wake to the 24th anniversary of 9/11. My emotions were feral almost. We decided to skip school (flexibility is such a blessing with homeschooling) and just try to process together.

That night, I had plans to go to THAT GIRL. Conference at my church, Northview Church. Rudy’d bought my ticket for Mother’s Day, and I’d been looking forward to this event all year. Charlotte Gambill was to teach and Hope Darst lead worship—what an incredible team! But with my emotions so out of control, I didn’t want to move, much less get ready and join 2,000 other women. Just getting dressed seemed excruciating, but I got ready, headed to the event since Rudy had given me the ticket. . . only to get stuck in traffic! If you know me well, you’ll understand that I DO NOT like to be late. At all. And traffic just wasn’t budging. So, I decided to go a different route, only to get stuck again. Then a detour where I got lost, and a u-turn right back to where I was, and I was praying all the while:

Abba, would You please save me a seat? And would you please save one for You right next to me? Please!

Finally, I arrived at church to a wildly packed-out parking lot, and this introvert-girl’s heart sank. I walked to the doors, stood nervously in line on the verge of tears, and waited my turn. The lady greeted me with a big, warm smile—and asked to scan my QR code. QR code? What QR code? I stood to the side to find the email with the ticket. . . but we’d recently switched cell carriers, and my email app wouldn’t allow me to sign in. And those pent-up, frustrated, nervous tears began to fall. Y’all, I was so embarrassed. And mad. I called Rudy and asked him to again forward me the ticket information, but he couldn’t find it. By now, those tears are streaming and people are noticing. Feeling there was nothing else, we could do, I started walking back to my little car. Eyes and cheeks black from smudged teary mascara, I stormed into the Throne Room, stomped my feet, and pounded my fists on my Abba-God’s chest.

I asked You to save me a seat! And save You one next to me! And You didn’t even let me have a seat at all!!! Do You not even care?

I was well on my way back home, when Rudy called me. He’d so thoughtfully contacted a leader at church and explained the situation. That friend had informed the event leader, who looked up and found my ticket and information. Rudy suggested I turn back around and try again because they’d resolved the problem. And I did. And guess what? God made a way. But that’s not the end of the story, not even close.

I walked in to a sea of ladies. So. Many. People. The lines for different shopping areas were wrapped around rooms, so I walked into the auditorium and was overwhelmed by how filled the space was. Seeing a few seats open near the front where I usually sit, I swiftly headed that direction—to discover cardigans and handbags saving the seats. Upon asking, I repeatedly heard the same answer, “yes, saved…yes, I’m saving these.” And the panic began to rise. Then, a different answer, “I have these saved, but there are a couple left at the end of the row.” Walking to the indicated seats, I noticed an open section a couple rows up, so sat at the end there. Minutes later, I heard the lady sitting directly in front of me say that the 3 seats next to her were available—and there were no seats in front of those! Wide open space! So, up I moved, thanking God for my seat. But the story still isn’t done.

Three sweet ladies came to sit next to me, and another lady sat on the other side of me. Worship began, and my soul quieted. I barely noticed the lady directly to my right moving down a few seats. We were in Abba’s presence, and this time, I approached the Throne Room much differently. My heart was so focused on praise and gratitude, that it wasn’t until halfway through the worship set, that Holy Spirit whispered to me:

See? I saved you a seat, a seat where you’d feel safe. And, look, I saved mine right next to you. I didn’t forget you; I had everything perfectly planned.

Humbling for sure, but I couldn’t help but smile—and snap a picture. You see, that auditorium was packed for a sold-out event, and my God saved me a seat exactly where He knew I’d feel less anxious. And He saved His right next to me. . . for the entire event.

Now, that may not mean much to you, but that seat, that gesture, that miracle meant everything to me. The precise, tender care of God is extraordinary, as is the love and mercy He showed me after my tantrum. Y’all, His love is immeasurable. Again, the story doesn’t stop here.

Charlotte Gambill taught the exact message that I needed to hear, using some of the same verses God has been bringing up over and over to me. Coincidence? I don’t think so. I believe the enemy knew what that service held for me, the ways I’d experience God and his faithfulness, and tried to sabotage that. But God, in His abundant generosity, orchestrated what seemed impossible into the miraculous possible so that His daughter could know she’s loved and He is worthy of her trust.

The enemy very easily could have won. My frustration, anger, and disappointment were fueling some very unChristlike behavior. The last thing I wanted to do was turn around and possibly go through the same experience, but I had to lay down my pride. I had to surrender. I had to turn from my destructive ways and face God in humility and repentance. 2 Chronicles 7:14 outlines this surrender and redemption, “…if my people who are called by my name humble themselves, and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land” (ESV). Forgiveness and healing begin with humility plus repentance. God didn’t have to provide for my seat-saving request, but He chose to—that’s grace. Sometimes the real freedom is in surrender.