When I am not diligent in spending time with God, tracing his reality in the details of my life, it isn’t that I have denounced my faith, but something much worse—I am not experiencing His fullness in my life, and naturally, it feels a lot like emptiness. Neglecting His relevance constructs an illusion of emptiness and ushers in the most conflicting emotions. Pressing my hands over my eyes, I ask why I can’t see him; pressing my hands to my ears, I ask why I can’t hear him; pushing my hands into my pockets, I ask why I can’t feel him. Ignoring him will cultivate ignorance, and ignorance will breed ambivalence. Why would I hesitate to run wild in the realm of His reality? He is my clarity, He is my sanity, He is my security. So why do I coax myself out of bed in the morning without feeling the weight of his beauty, without sifting through the details for his fingertips. without smelling the way His truth lingers on my cheeks, without listening for the comforting sound of His nearness? Why am I trying to believe that the idea of Him is enough when He has made himself available to me? This is as absurd as standing in the rain during winter and being content to think about a warm bath instead of walking inside, filling the tub, and getting in. Why do we choose narrative over reality? Why do we prefer the religious affiliation over the invasive presence of His love?
Posted on: Fri, 05 Sep 2014 15:33:58 +0000
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