Last night, while putting Judah-Buddha to bed, I said "Are you ready to pray?"
He looked at me, pouted and said, "I don't want to pray. God isn't my favorite."
It strikes me how deeply tuned into reality my 3 year old was at that moment. He uncovered that deepest, ugly truth in my heart.
A horrifying amount of time, God isn't my favorite either. He's my cool buddy that I hangout with when it's not too inconvenient or he's my ambulance set aside for emergencies. When it's hard to talk to him, when I feel like yelling rather than being patient, when His timing or plans don't look like mine, I also pout and say "No! You're not my favorite!"
God please change this rock-heart into one that desperately loves and seeks you!
And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. (Ezekiel 36:26 ESV)