I was having trouble thinking of things to write about.
It happens; life isn’t always full of ‘write about it’ events. Especially when my activities the past few days revolved around shoveling snow, food shopping, doing laundry, and watching kids play basketball. We did watch a few movies, too.
Not quite riveting. The movies were good, though.
So when I sat down to write about something faith-related, I drew a blank. Usually my daily devotional gives me something to think about, but my mind was a steel trap. Nothing was coming in and nothing sure was coming out.
So as usual I side-stepped turning to the one who has answers to everything, the one who desires me to turn to him in every.single.thing. first, the one who created me and saved me and who gave me life and eternity.
I turned to Google instead.
Not surprisingly, I came up with nothing.
God. How many years will it take before I look to God for my answers first? The thought causes my throat to catch and brings tears to my eyes. I feel disappointing. I feel his sorrow over my oversight. God, the one who gave me these words to type and the very hands to type them, is here with me all the time, surrounding me and tapping me on the shoulder even when I’ve turned to the world for answers first. God.
I could write about how God saved me from self-destruction over and over again when I was a teen, or when I was twenty, or even again when I was thirty. I could write about how I often overlook the cross in favor of God when thinking about holy things, as if Jesus is somehow separate and less holy because he was a man. I could write about any number of Bible stories and my impressions about them. I could write about how our church’s sermon series about the least of these in our world today causes me to shift uncomfortably in my seat every Sunday because these topics are the very ones that give me nightmares. How I can’t even bring myself to think about them past Sunday afternoon and how weak that makes me feel.
Or I could write about how, as a person who has known God all my life, still fails to turn to him in even the most mundane of personal issues. And how he reveals himself even then, in the gentlest way he can, even though he could easily thump me on the head with his glory.
I have plenty to write about. I just need to remember where the source lies.
Formerly when you did not know God, you were enslaved to beings that by nature are not gods at all. But now that you have come to know God (or rather to be known by God), how can you turn back again to the weak and worthless basic forces? Do you want to be enslaved to them all over again? Galatians 4:8-9 (NET)