There are so many learned behaviors, routine actions we do in our sleep. Things like standing up, getting shoes on, driving somewhere for the 100th time. If you know the song "Jesus Loves Me," that is beyond robotic. For me, it feels like choosing to sing my ABC's to myself, without my kids around. Why is my first instinct to sleep. Why is "Jesus loves you" hollow to me. If I speak about the one God, I am holding him up for a nanosecond and then sticking him in a dark box. I see people and think, they will too.
"Quiet time," has had that feeling for me as well. It's not that I dislike being quiet and I certainly love being alone, it's just that as a word or idea, I sorta shut down or nod off when I hear it. Prayer can come across that way too. I rarely pray past health and strength and good fortune in the generic sense.
Sitting down in a Chapel by myself to listen to God is suddenly terrifying. When I can't avoid it any longer (because it is an assignment), I sit down in the back by myself and unravel. There is no one to be, nothing to do and actual time. It is outside of the world I know.
In a Sanctuary God feels big and I the opposite. I lose my facade of nice, of compliant of "I will solve your problems." My brain steps asside and I consider God as God. It means pushing others out to get a boat for the shore where he has reappeared since last night. It means digging through a roof and being lowered down and forgetting to eat, because I am desperate to be with him.
No comments:
Post a Comment