Yes, I am still here. Still kicking. Dana and Cynthia, your last two comments made me laugh. I know I have been terribly slack and I do deserve to be fired from my blog. 🙂 So…where does one begin after such a long absence? I suppose I can’t recap and fill in all those missing months but I can start with today.
Ahhh…today. Today was a crazy, up-and-down, emotional, busy day. First of all, I am hormonal. That in itself should tell you a lot. Secondly, it is the second week of school and I have forgotten what a time-consuming, draining, demanding job this is. If you want to do it well, that is. And I want to accomplish so much this year. I am already feeling somewhat stressed and overwhelmed.
Thirdly, I have been plagued by the same weariness that has dogged me this year, spiritually speaking. (Which probably accounts a bit for the few-and-far-between blog entries. My words tend to dry up when I go through a tough time.) Oh, I have felt the presence of Jesus, and I have seen precious truths in his word, but that fresh “first-love” thing where Jesus was the adoring focus of my every thought, has faded into something more commonplace and mundane and familiar. I have to guard against “going through the motions”, like that song says. Sometimes I feel old and jaded spiritually. I have seen much, and my innocence has been lost, and it is hard to maintain that child-like wonder and naivety that I once had.
Back to today. Today, in a spurt of energy after being sick for two days, I tried to bring some order into this badly neglected house. I worked hard, y’all, but at the end of the afternoon, it became clear to me that I had hardly made a dent in my list of things that need attention around here. I so wanted to keep my momentum and carry on working, but Friday nights are church nights for us. I called hubby and told him I didn’t want to go to church. I wanted to get things done around here and besides, I am weary. I am weary of being dry and jaded and…weary. I knew I had no choice but to go though, since I have the car and hubby needed me to get him from work and take him to church.
We sang this song during worship: “You stretch your arms out wide, I lift my hands up high, to my Saviour…”, when Jesus met me. I took the words to heart and realized again that his arms are always outstretched to meet me. And all I need to do is reach mine up, like my little girly used to do, and let him pull me into his embrace, where all struggle and strife ceases. As I worshipped, Jesus gently chided me for spouting off fancy words about his goodness and his mercy and his heart that overflows with a desire to redeem us to the uttermost, and yet not believing them for my own life. (I have started writing my book, guess what the first chapter is about?)
He actually asked me: “Why all the angst? Am I your Saviour or not? Do you believe my good intentions for you or not? If you do, why not lift your arms to me and I will pick you up and carry you. Chill out a bit.” And he invited me to dance with him. So I stepped away from my microphone and got off the stage and danced with my God.
His sweet presence hasn’t left me. He sat next to me as I listened to my pastor preach, he is with me now as I type this.
I am tired of religion. I am tired of going through the motions. I am tired of trying and failing and seeing my flesh prevail too many times and of beating myself up for it.
I will never be tired of being with my Jesus, and of baring my soul before him. He is the sweetest person I know. He is life, and in his presence there is joy forevermore.