I think of a million excuses. I have a to-do list a mile long, that must get done instead. I count Sunday morning worship, Tuesday morning Bible Study group and Wednesday nights with the youth. I tell myself that my nap time was used for resting in Him.
Those are lies. Real relationships take work. Love relationships require efforts of great magnitude. Intimacy is necessary.
I expect Him to speak but I never stop and listen. I pray for guidance and discernment without cultivating the bond. I seek wisdom, honor and value, but ignore the essential Truth. My heart screams with questions, when the answers have already been written.
I toss ideas around in my head wondering if the Spirit is prompting, knowing if it were Him, He'd be more clear because that's His character.
I remember prior pain and hope the scars have healed, forgetting how He washed them clean with His own hands.
Anxiety tortures my mind, keeping me awake. I ask Him why. He makes it clear that He's waiting for me to lay it at His feet.
He sits and waits as I walk right by, promising to catch up later, committing to Him my left-overs, my tired mind, my weary heart. I vow to make our time priority, often breaking my promise.
He always keeps His promises. He's always faithful. He's always true, He's always good. He always has time for me. He never keeps me waiting, especially when I need Him most. He's WAY busier than I'll ever be.
The problem with my relationship with God is ME.
Those are lies. Real relationships take work. Love relationships require efforts of great magnitude. Intimacy is necessary.
I expect Him to speak but I never stop and listen. I pray for guidance and discernment without cultivating the bond. I seek wisdom, honor and value, but ignore the essential Truth. My heart screams with questions, when the answers have already been written.
I toss ideas around in my head wondering if the Spirit is prompting, knowing if it were Him, He'd be more clear because that's His character.
I remember prior pain and hope the scars have healed, forgetting how He washed them clean with His own hands.
Anxiety tortures my mind, keeping me awake. I ask Him why. He makes it clear that He's waiting for me to lay it at His feet.
He sits and waits as I walk right by, promising to catch up later, committing to Him my left-overs, my tired mind, my weary heart. I vow to make our time priority, often breaking my promise.
He always keeps His promises. He's always faithful. He's always true, He's always good. He always has time for me. He never keeps me waiting, especially when I need Him most. He's WAY busier than I'll ever be.
The problem with my relationship with God is ME.
