Normally I’d say day 1 of 365, but that would be presumptuous. This could be my last year on earth, after all. An aged friend of the family fell on Sunday and broke some bones. She’s been battling pancreatic cancer for two-plus years and the chemo has stopped working. Are her days numbered? Yes. So are mine. So are yours. We just don’t know which number today is, and to be honest don’t think about it very often. (Death? Who wants to think about that?)
Life, as we know it here, is fleeting. I want to learn everything God is trying to teach me. I want to become the person He made me to be (which I am not because I’ve spent most of my life trying to be someone else). Someone shared with me recently a comment a Jewish rabbi made to the effect that when we stand before God He’s not going to say, “Why weren’t you like Moses, or Mary, or Ruth, or David,” but “Why weren’t you like you, the person I created?” Each person is unique. I’ve spent too much of my life trying to conform to an image I made (is that a form of idolatry?). I’d love to blow away all my preconceived ideas about religion and faith and walking with God and start fresh. I want to meet God this year.
Do you know what drags me down? Routine. Duties. Busy-ness. Responsibilities. I get caught up in them. All the shoulds and ought-tos.
“Come away,” He says.
I say, “Where? How? When!!!”
He replies, “You’ll seek Me and you’ll find Me when you seek for Me with all your heart.”
“But my heart is fragmented, deceitful, selfish, polluted.”
“I already know that. Come anyway. Just as you are.”