Looking for God
I looked for God.
Sitting on the edge of my bed with my face burried in my hands, I realized I was far from God. No, I hadn't turned my back on Him and I hadn't abandoned every thought of Him. It was more like a careless wandering away from God. I hadn't intended to stray, it's just that life got in the way. School, work and church had successfully kept my schedule packed and I had to make time for friends and family. Solitary time wasn't even an option, let alone time with God.
Every time this wandering happens, my recognition of it seems to come while I'm on the edge of my bed, alone. That very moment I'll reach out to Him, trying to gage how far from Him I really am. Most often, He's far beyond my reach. All I can do is cry, so I let go, hoping He'll hear my plea and reach for me instead. I ask Him to make me be close to Him. I ask him to help me pursue Him and desire to know Him.
So far, He's never just given me these things. I have to work at it. So I begin to pray and read my Bible more. I pick up some good Christian literature, then I further my search for God by doing what's "right". I stop my flirtyness and replace it with good deeds toward the needy. I try, in every situation, to sacrifice myself for others.
I try so hard to do good, but sometimes I still fail. I'm not of the noble type who naturally does what's right and acceptable. I'm weak. I'm a sinner who requires His grace and the assurance of the salvation I accepted long ago.
Looking for God is hard work and it often still leaves me feeling empty. As I sit on the edge of my bed and weep, I remember that even though God seems out of my reach, I'm never out of His. He's always been there, ever providing me with His amazing grace. He knows when I wake, when I pray and when I curse Him. He loves me anyway.
What more can I ask for? I looked for God...and I found Him.
Sitting on the edge of my bed with my face burried in my hands, I realized I was far from God. No, I hadn't turned my back on Him and I hadn't abandoned every thought of Him. It was more like a careless wandering away from God. I hadn't intended to stray, it's just that life got in the way. School, work and church had successfully kept my schedule packed and I had to make time for friends and family. Solitary time wasn't even an option, let alone time with God.
Every time this wandering happens, my recognition of it seems to come while I'm on the edge of my bed, alone. That very moment I'll reach out to Him, trying to gage how far from Him I really am. Most often, He's far beyond my reach. All I can do is cry, so I let go, hoping He'll hear my plea and reach for me instead. I ask Him to make me be close to Him. I ask him to help me pursue Him and desire to know Him.
So far, He's never just given me these things. I have to work at it. So I begin to pray and read my Bible more. I pick up some good Christian literature, then I further my search for God by doing what's "right". I stop my flirtyness and replace it with good deeds toward the needy. I try, in every situation, to sacrifice myself for others.
I try so hard to do good, but sometimes I still fail. I'm not of the noble type who naturally does what's right and acceptable. I'm weak. I'm a sinner who requires His grace and the assurance of the salvation I accepted long ago.
Looking for God is hard work and it often still leaves me feeling empty. As I sit on the edge of my bed and weep, I remember that even though God seems out of my reach, I'm never out of His. He's always been there, ever providing me with His amazing grace. He knows when I wake, when I pray and when I curse Him. He loves me anyway.
What more can I ask for? I looked for God...and I found Him.
posted by Erica Stark at
1:45 PM
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