Does your child ever do something so witty and surprising that you just shake your head and let a smirk creep across your face?
My son cracked out with a clever quip last week and I just burst out laughing. I don't often burst out into anything.
I like that feeling.
Over the past few weeks I have found my self smirking at God. Shaking my head once again. Surprised at myself for being surprised. That He loves me.
It has been long that I have seen his hand. I have my memories. Those stories (we all have them) of my own biography that 'prove' our relationship. The little things that have happened that show me that there is a God and He does love me and act in my little tiny life.
I cling to those like my daughter to her stuffed rabbit. She holds that rabbit's arm around her neck to make him hug her. I cling to my memories of miracles like that. I make them cling to me. They are my proof.
Because it has been so very long.
A few weeks ago I wrote about how I have no prayer life. That I have just decided to go 'through the motions', read the daily readings and jot down my favorite line at the top of my daily planner. And move on. I actually almost deleted that line later. Thinking how someone might think of me. Discounting prayer. So cavalier. Disrespectful. To thumb my nose at a relationship with the Creator like that. I'll read these little verses real quick, check that off my list, and move on. But, I didn't remove the statement. It's just where I've been. I'm not hiding anything here.
And now, I see how He has been clinging to me. Waiting for that littlest of gestures. Not caring about my attitude. Not minding if I'm not paying attention. Overlooking the fact that I blow it all off in my little self-indulgent blog.
I have reached out, grabbed Him is the smallest of ways. In this time of turmoil in our lives. A meager reach at that. And He has come.
I read these Scriptures and they SPEAK. As they have not spoken to me since my conversion over 15 years ago.
I would tell you what they say, but I won''t. That would make it not mine. And that's all I want it to be.
So, I can add this to my list. The days when I can open the Bible once again and hear Him sending me a message. As if some wise bearded man centuries ago wrote down these words because he knew I would one day read them and sigh. Did he?
And I see how God only wants us to ask Him. Like my little one with the love of her rabbit.
That smallest of faiths: if she wraps his plush little paw around her neck, he really does love her back.
My God only wants that little child-like faith. And yet I let myself get so distracted, solving my own problems, reading books, studying, talking, thinking, mulling. All I had to do was stop looking at myself and take the littlest glance at Him.
and I find myself smirking at God. "Oh, you!"
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