Last Thursday I finished the first 10 chapters of Deuteronomy. I was elated. The most grueling bits are over, I congratulated myself. I have always given up all attempts to read the Bible from cover to cover, in book order, when I came to Leviticus. I've just never been able to push past the litigious outlining of God's rules for Isreal. So not only exiting Leviticus in one fluid week of reading but actually making it through Numbers As well...! That was simply unthinkable; a true mark of maturity or spiritual hunger or something, I thought.
And then there was Friday. I usually use my lunch break as my daily date with God—one on one prayer and Bible reading. For the last two weeks my prayers consistently begged, "Give me more of you God! Give me an insatiable desire to know you intimately and trust you fully." And then on Friday I was "too busy" or too distracted or something to take a lunch break. I just plowed on through, feeling a slight twinge of guilt but shoving it down. Saturday Jude's ear infection was very bad and I never even thought to spend time with God, much less pray for Jude.
Sunday, the same as Saturday, the end of a miserable, sleepless weekend shut indoors with a very sick baby. Justin and I did have some great times together, but there was not even a thought for God, my creator and my joy and freedom. Monday, I frantically worked from home, trying to watch Jude while dealing with projects and conference calls. Tuesday was a blur of fixing websites and designing web banners. Again, no lunch break or God time.
And today, Although I considered leaving the office and meditating on God and his mercy toward me, I worked right on through lunch. It was only when I was talking with one of my good friends at work about prayer (and spiritual "scary stuff") that it hit me how void the last 6 days have been of Christ. I have neither thought of him nor missed him. This is heartbreaking to me, and I right it here not out of pride but out of this innate need to confess my pride and derelict behavior toward the only one who matters. How could I live 6 days, laughing, working, eating, listening to music, sleeping, and not remember with trembling heart the great power and love of my Lord? How can I take breath and not give credit, not shout out thanks until my lungs are searing and raw for all that he was and is and will be?
It makes me sick. It scares me to the very core to see my complete selfishness and self-reliance.
"If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us." - 1 John 1:8
To not see my sin as my God sees it and thereby not be humbled by it is to flaunt my sin and garb it in a menagerie of justifications. That I could be so mentally separated from him without even noticing makes me fear my very salvation.
"And so, from the day we heard, we have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God." - Colossians 1:9-10
The will and spiritual understanding of God PRODUCES fruit and an increased knowledge of God. So the lack of fruit and increased knowledge must be contrary to spiritual wisdom and God's will. In other words, I envy slugs right now: they at least fully obey their creator, acting according to his design, in complete submission. They do sluggy things, live sluggy lives, make slug babies, and die slimy slug deaths. Never does a slug try to be a cheetah or delude itself into thinking it's really a highly trained business exec. It's just a slug and it's happy (I assume) to be one. Yet I, more spiritually sluggy then said slug, flounce about like a dutchess while my sin oozes a trail in my wake.
God have mercy on me, the worst of sinners!