Rain
tiredness
I can’t feel myself
A bird flies into the window
The body is a stone
Don’t wanna get up
The cold fingers
Write no more
I’m tired and hungry
I can’t do anything
Headache, autumn storm, October rain, moving mess and emptiness
I am powerless
Category: Prayer and worship
Why is God distant? But is He distant?
I believe I can find God in the same way as I find my phone, open the refrigerator, turn on the TV and run to buy groceries.
Many times I have to wait for hours, weeks, months and years on God. But I don’t want to wait any longer than five minutes.
I’m used to the comfortable life.
If we don’t want to cook or bake, we can buy a prepared meal.
If we don’t want to buy groceries, we can have them delivered.
The washing machine washes the clothes. The tumble drier dries the clothes. The dishwasher washes the dishes. The vacuum cleaner cleans the floor. The car is faster than our feet. The radio, tv and cell phone give us fast entertainment.
But God, you’re not fast food.
You’re not fast entertainment.
I can read in my Bible, and you’re still distant.
I can read a devotion and you’re distant.
I can listen to worship and you’re distant.
I can listen to a sermon and you’re distant.
I can read a Christian book and you’re distant.
I can attend church and you’re distant.
I can pray for five minutes, and you’re silent and distant.
You’re not an automate or a robot
You’re not a bottom or a pet
You’re not a doll
You’re not man-made
Your greatness and holiness are indefinite
God, help me listen to you
Help me to be more patient and humble
I’m sitting by the keyboard when I meet a precipice. Mission impossible. Not the movie. Impossible? Wrong. Mission I AM possible. From where does the A come? From the alphabet, from the piano, from the chamber music? From the abstract? No. From the absurd? No. From the accusative? From calling on Abba? Yes. It’s God Father, who says I AM possible. I AM. I’m a possibility. To me everything is possible, God says. YAHWEH. He is the one He says He is. Powerful, strong, full of strength. So strong he can choose to be powerless, he can choose to die, to humiliate himself, he can choose to sacrifice himself. His grace is unconditional, his love is unlimited. He can forgive. He can move mountains. He can move borders. He can love the unloved. He is so holy that he loves everyone. He loves his creation infinitely. Unconditionally. Passionately. He died, but overcame death, sin, devil. He is the strongest. He is strength. God almighty.
But I am weak. Small. Powerless. Fragile. Full of sin. Full of shame. Full of thorns. I’m not a good person.
But I look at Jesus. I become silent.
I was about to take a bite of my sandwich in a diner in Washington, when the young guy stood right by our table. I did notice him earlier outside the diner on the street, He talked to my husband and me.
“Excuse me?” I said, asking him to repeat his question.
“Wanna buy some Marihuana?” He said.
“No thanks”, I said, half smiling.
The guy walked up to the man standing behind the disk.
Did we look like someone who wanted to buy Marihuana?
I saw myself wandering up to the guy and telling him that I didn’t need Marihuana. I had enough in Jesus. He is my life and daily bread. Then I would declare the gospel to him. This is how it sounded in my imagination. I remained at my seat as if was glued to my chair, and my mouth did nothing but eat.
At least I prayed for the Marihuana ‘salesman’.
Fill my mind and my heart
with your water
I will catch every drop
remember each drop
How it feels on my skin
I was thirsty and you gave me water
I was dirty and you cleansed me
I called and you answered
Every good gift is from above
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