It has been a really quiet day. I never left the house, didn’t
listen to music, and haven’t spoken to a single person all day. I’ve just spent
the day inside my head with the dirty diapers.
This is my cry for help. Lord, I hope you’re listening. Things
are difficult in my life right now, yet at the same time I’m feeling
particularly far away from God. He hasn’t gone anywhere—He’s right where He
always is, door open—but I simply haven’t bothered to stay in communication
with Him. And now the guilt is getting worse—not just because I’ve been distant
from God but because I’m a sinner, not a nice person, unworthy of the
love and esteem of anyone, including my Creator. I’ve got this feeling of doom,
expecting God to rain down some sort of punishment on me.
So, here I am, the prodigal daughter, begging for His mercy,
asking Him to show me how to bridge the gulf between us. I’m scratching feebly
at His door, without even the audacity to pound boldly. My well is dry. I don’t have the energy
to shout so I just whine.
“Lord, it’s me. Here I am again. I’m sorry I'm such a shit. I miss you.
Please let me in.”
Times like this make me yearn for a strong connection to
Him. I need to feel His presence in my life. I am brought low to feel my
indebtedness, to understand His unending forgiveness, that pure grace.
If I just ask, He will make me new again. My heavenly father
will welcome me home again and again. It has not been a good season for my
growth in faith. I have faltered and all the troubles of an ordinary life seem
to be magnified when I’m not walking in faith.
And today I read in 2 Corinthians 1 that God will still
deliver us. It was the word “still” that jumped out at me. No matter how many
times I falter and fail, no matter how many times I wander away from Him, He
will still be there to welcome me back with open arms, with no
recrimination.
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