Holy discontent?

The speaker rose from his seat
Silently moving centre-stage.
He stood quietly for a few moments
Then looked directly at me
Eyes flashing,
Lips quivering,
And spoke the words I longed him not to say;
'Our God can do more than youcould ever ask or imagine'.

I narrowed my eyes and stared him down.
He never once shifted his gaze.
Then again, he spoke;
'Thus says the Lord;
If you remain in me and my words remain in you
Ask whatever you wish and it will be given you.'

I heard a breath catch.
Startled - I found it was my own.
But I blocked off my ears,
Blocked off my mind,
And shut out my heart.
And with my eyes
I declared war on the speaker.
I would not let him win.
He was not going to defeat me.

And I stared,
But he was not fazed.
He did not look away.
A tear slowly trickled down his cheek,
But he never looked away.
And I wondered if anyone else could see.
If they could sense his relentless gaze on me.
I wondered what they might be thinking.
But I didn't look to see.
I could not, would not, cast my eyes away.

He took a breath.
I caught mine, and tensed,
For he was about to speak again;
'Jesus said, I came to give you life, and life in all its fullness'.

I felt the anger bubbling up inside
And I desperately tried to control it.
But he knew.
And he spoke again quickly.
Much too quickly.
Impassioned, he cried out;
'Let go, let it go.
And join in the dance of the trinity.'
And I snapped.
Geting to my feet, I screamed;
'Shut-up. Just shut-up.'

It felt sureal.
Like I was outside my own body.
Watching myself fall to pieces in front of everyone.

'There's no dance.
There's no fullness of life.
We don't get what we wish for
And God never does anything. I imagine much greater things than this.
It's empty.
It's meaningless.
Just complete and utter disappointment.'

Throwing my Bible down,
I ran.
Out of the door.
Into the car park
And found a corner.
I curled up in a ball and sobbed.

No-one came to see me.
Not at first.
They were all too wise, (or too scared!)
But I was glad of it.
I stayed until everybody had left.
All except one.
The speaker.
He stood behind me for a while.
Just stood.
No sound.
But his presence was a strange comfort.

We stayed like that for ages.
Me - back turned.
Him, just stood.
Calmly,
Peaceably,
Stood.
All was quiet.
All was still.

Then movement.
Very gently, he handed me a tissue,
Put a firm but kind hand on my shoulder,
And whispered,
'Holy discontent is a good thing.
Embrace it.
Bless you my child'.

Then he was gone
AndI was left to contemplate his words.
Holy discontent.
Is that what I have?
Or am I simply,
Discontent?