Out of the millions of ideas, words, and truths in the universe, its amazing to me that God was able to condense what He wanted to tell mankind to the passages of the Bible. As a writer, it encourages me to think that more words doesn’t equal better writing — especially in this season of fewer words.
Today, I’m playing coy with God’s words. Despite knowing that opening the Bible and reading its gems would nourish me, I’m pursuing other things. I feel dry and stressed out. But isn’t that the way with things in life? That when we need them most, something in our humanity rejects them? This is why I’m writing right now: I’m avoiding the Bible. I know that hard truths will meet me there, and I don’t feel strong enough to bear their weight today.
Sometimes, I have let this go on for an embarrassingly long time. Weeks, even. I pretend I’m fine while the ugly parts of me bubble up to the surface, begging to be dealt with, to be wrought out in the light of God’s presence. The bubbles start to pop out in my behavior, my relationships, my thinking. I really need to seek God, I think. But the lazy part of me listens to that lying hiss, telling me I’m getting by, I can still hear the birds, I can write or cook or watch TV or do whatever I want, in the name of biblical freedom. After all, God doesn’t condemn me.
Like everything in following Christ, there is a fine line between truth and deception. Yes, God does not condemn me for avoiding Him. I will not surely die. (Now that sounds familiar.) But somehow, it is still not right to do as I’m doing today — to know that the cure for what ails me is Him, and to not go after what I need. I do not understand the workings of all these things, and how they might fit together theologically, but I do know that a commandment has been given to me: to love my God with all my heart, all my soul, all my mind, and all my strength. I’m certain that when I choose to reject the medicine for my stinking wounds, I am not thinking about love. I am thinking about rejection, impossible standards I cannot meet, and disappointing God.
“The LORD is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.” Psalm 103:8
This love, it sweeps away my excuses and makes my thoughts seem silly. This love will help me.
Little did my adversary know that being lured toward writing would backfire and lead me straight into the arms of God. He loves me so. Right now, I can feel it.