A Gray Day

 I woke up this morning a little sad. It just felt like the kind of day you stayed in bed and pondered the more serious things in life. Alas, I had laundry to do and a cup of coffee

calling my name, so off I went. My father, usually up at an ungodly hour and annoyingly chipper in the mornings, was grumpy and mumbled under his breath, something about stupid teenage boys and bacon. I knew to stay out of the way. The sky was overcast and made everything seem a little more gray. I even wore gray pants and a gray shirt. Yeah, that kind of a day.

I am not a romantic, by any stretch of the imagination. I do not like romanticizing ideas that were meant to be completely logical. I do not believe in finding a soulmate. I

sometimes hate emotions and the seeming inability to control them. I do not like it at all when a situation that is not extremely important is dramaticized to the point of nausea. But despite all this, after much pondering over my morning coffee, I have come to the conclusion that life is both dramatic and romantic. I don't have any sunset pictures or cutesy quotes to enhance my point, but you'll get the picture soon enough.

I don't know exactly what caused my bout of melancholy, but I have a couple suspicions. Life has changed quite a bit... different as of late. Many important life decisions have to be made soon and a few good friends have been recently absent from my life. While it is not an extremely dramatic situation, when friends are absent, a space is left that cannot, for a time, be filled with anything else. Once in a while I stumble across an empty space or two in my heart, and I am painfully aware of the absence. But this is not what I mean by life being dramatic.

Some mornings you wake up and you feel that your good mood, the reasons you had to be motivated and the confidence that comes from a full life, they have snuck away during the night and burrowed themselves in a hole somewhere, and you really don't feel like expending the energy to go find them. And you feel a bit panicked. "Where am I going?" you say. "I will never be what I want to be!"

And in the midst of that moment, The Lord gently touches that empty spot in your heart and says, "I can fill that." An unearthly peace settles over you. He shows you the course and span of your life and says, "Look and see what things we shall do together!" And then he laughs and touches your nose. "And don't make it about you! It has always been about my Kingdom." In one moment, all the things heavy on your heart are gone, and there is just you and Him. And that, my friend, is a beautiful thing.

It is in moments like this that I am made aware of my need for God. I may be able to pretend for a time, claiming that I need Him but not ever actually seeking to know Him. I may say to my friends, "Isn't He wondrous?" and then go on living life completely on my own terms. I may talk of prayer and reading the Bible until I am blue in the face, but not only do I not do those things, I don't even talk to the One whom I claim to know. This can only go on for so long before eventually my soul, my heart, my very flesh cries out for the Living God! David says, "When will you come and meet with me?" It dawns on me that I must have Him, in all his wonder! Every morning when I wake up to when my eyes close and my mind drifts into sleep each night, I need Him to function, to breathe, to laugh, to live this life He's called me to.

It is when we are aware of our deep personal need for God that our faith in Him grows. I do not mean beating ourselves up because we have fallen short. I am not hungry for God just so I can have my needs met. I did not wake up this morning and say, "Lord, I need you so much today so that I can be a decently happy person and be nice to everyone and do all the stuff I have to get done." I hunger for Him because I know there is a greater destiny than sorrow. I hunger for Him because I know that others before me have experienced Him, and I do not want to miss out. I hunger for Him because I do not want to worry about tomorrow, not today, not ever. I want to savor each day as a beautiful and blessed gift, for that it is. I hunger for Him because there are empty places in my heart where things once stood, and their vacancy only means more room for Him to fit. I am coming to the realization more fully that I can find complete fulfillment in God and God alone. 

I used to wait for God to pursue me. I thought, "Lord, show me open doors and set me up for encounters and use me!" Then I started running into closed doors, and I wasn't finding many encounters or opportunities. I was perturbed at the seeming inadequacy of my request.

Then I saw God, perfect in all his ways, seated on His mighty throne, smiling at me. I immediately knew why. I knew in that moment what He wanted of me: pursuit.

Sometimes God opens a door for us, but sometimes He wants us to break the door down. Sometimes he could show us revelation, but he waits until we seek so He knows we really want it. Sometimes he showers us with affirmation and encouragement and gifts, then sits back and waits for us to utilize them. Some Christians I know (including myself) have become lazy, expecting God to do all the work and give us everything. I think he waits for the long hours spent in prayer, the worshipper up early in the morning, the broken heart burdened by sorrow, and the heart turned toward Him, asking, "I am waiting for you still. What do you have to say right now?" We lay in bed and say, "Lord, I will never get to where I want to go. I want something more exciting." And He says, "I am exciting. Come and find me." 

So while I do not like romanticizing or dramatizing any situation, I am certain that there is something extremely romantic and dramatic and compelling about the relationship we can have with Christ. I am convinced that I am in desperate need of Him, every hour of every day. I am assured that I must be with Him, or else I shall die. (Well, my soul will die, which I think is a lot worse than bodily death.)It takes work, and like any functional relationship, it is never one-sided. Blood, sweat and tears. Sacrifice. After all, you must lose your life to find Him. Doesn't sound like everything is handed to you. I could make some extended parallel about how Jesus is my boyfriend, but I'll spare you. In Hosea 2, He says, "And it shall be, in that day, that you will call Me 'My Husband,' and no longer call Me 'My Master.'" If that's not romantic, than I don't know what is. 

Just philosophizing,

B