I need God.
Two things happened this week that just made me give a second thought to.
First, I have a great dog. He's not so bright, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm.
Every day, he's pent up in his fence while I head off to work. And every day, he shows me yet another hole that he's discovered in order to get out of the fence.
He'll do anything necessary to get out and preferably back into the house.
Lesson two -
A cantaloupe, sitting on my kitchen counter. It's fresh, looked good, smelled good, apparently I wasn't the only one to think so either.
8 hrs later, I found ants trotting over to check it out.
I ended up spraying and wiping tons of stuff down as they slowly wandered over the counter to the cantaloupe.
8 hrs, one unopened cantaloupe, tons of ants.
And as I gave those things a second thought, I wondered (this will probably sound weird to even me when I come back and read this) but I wondered how different things might be if Christians were like that with the Spirit of God. If no fence, no chains could hold us back from getting into His presence.
If just the slightest scent made us drop everything, to crawl into unknown territory just to see if you could find the source of the smell.
It was a do anything attitude.
Anything, whatever it took, whatever hadn't been done before, desperate clawing at a hole just to make it wide enough to crawl through to reach the goal.
Yeah, ok. I don't have that. I'm doing good just to go to church. Beyond that, I'm a quivering mess.
I spoke, tonight at church in between songs about something along these lines, I spoke. I know better. I really do know better. But I did it anyway.
It's like trying to write a blog post, only you only have one go at it, it needs to be short, ... oh... and you'll probably get too emotional to think straight. Impossible.
I wonder sometimes if the whole reason I'm at the church I'm at is just to teach the people patience.
I need God. I need to find that weird little spot where you just grab onto God and cling. But not just cling. I was watching a trapeze act today and I thought about how tight the people must grip that bar - and yet they swing and move their body to gain distance and speed. They didn't just grab on and ride. They hung on and flexed and leaned, and pushed until they were moving faster than when they first grabbed on.
I just haven't found my footing yet, and worse yet, I can't seem to shake this profound sadness.
I'm ready to trade it in.
Let me go.