Today I removed the dusty down comforter from our bed -- the one that’s giving Mark allergy attacks every time his nose gets near it. Although putting it in the wash doesn’t sound like a huge undertaking, it’s one that I’ve avoided for months. Sitting in the living room I hear the washer spinning wildly in the background giving me a sense of accomplishment. Just outside the window, lines of clothes flap effortlessly in the breeze on the roof of a nearby building. Someone else carved out time in their busy day to carry them up flights of stairs and carefully secure each one.
Life is about doing the things that aren’t always glamorous. As a stay at home mom for fourteen years I spent a gazillion hours doing what would be considered mundane. When the girls needed me, I was there. That was my job, my joy, my calling. No one had to remind me that spending time with the children would enhance our relationship. Through instinct and experience with others I knew it.
Most of us discern by the time we’re adults that if we want to have a strong relationship with another person we have to make time to spend alone with them. Getting to know someone is relatively easy, but maintaining a healthy, thriving relationship requires energy and determination fueled by love. Even when we love a person intensely we still find ourselves facing commitments that are sometimes just plain inconvenient. The most caring wife and mother doesn’t always get chill bumps when her husband walks in the door or warm fuzzies when she’s around her children, but part of her commitment is walking in love even when she doesn’t feel it. We listen when we’re tired, cook when we’d rather not, stay up late talking because someone we love is hurting.
While we seem to understand this need for loyalty and sacrifice in our human relationships, we have a propensity to forget it when it comes to God. He doesn’t need us, we reason, and if anyone is going to get the short end of the stick it may as well be him. He’s all-knowing, all-powerful and complete in himself. Our relationship has no way of transforming him or meeting any of his needs. Yet there seems to be a long line of needs outside our door that far exceed what we’re capable of giving. Our inclination and temptation is to put these first, to cast aside our quiet time and get to work. Logic tells us that with so much to do, we don’t have time for prayer and reflection.
We forget that we're dependent upon God’s daily grace in order to walk in the Spirit and bear fruit. Time spent in prayer and in the word enables us to see life like he sees it rather than just a mass of tangled events that don’t have any eternal relevance. As we draw near to him, he opens our eyes to understand the spiritual in the physical and cultivates within our hearts a longing for his kingdom, rather than our own. His agenda for the day encompasses our plans and we’re able to place people, problems and passions in perspective.
I began learning some of these truths the hard way, and they didn’t become a reality for me until I’d been through a long season of suffering. I’d been a Christian for about eight years when we had our first daughter. Once she was born, my energies were spent feeding and taking care of her. Over the course of the next six years I greatly neglected my relationship with the Lord, though it wasn’t intentional at first. I woke up each day thinking I’d find time to spend in prayer and in the word, but cries from the end of the hall dictated otherwise. Days blurred together as I traversed from one dirty diaper to the next, and my Bible lay unopened on a dusty shelf nearby. Sometimes I’d pick it up for a few minutes and say a quick prayer as I transitioned to what seemed an endless series of chores.
Changes took shape in my heart in such a gradual way that I hardly noticed them. God became increasingly distant, so I started making decisions based on my own judgment instead of relying on his guidance. My hunger for spiritual growth diminished, while tension in my marriage greatly increased. Instead of allowing the struggle to drive me closer to God, I followed my emotions which resulted in bitter arguments and further alienation. Before I knew it, I was conjuring up ways to escape my marriage while fully justifying my decision.
Meanwhile, God was at work. I developed pneumonia, followed by mono which over many months gave way to what the doctors diagnosed as Chronic Fatigue. As if this wasn’t enough, I’d injured both feet through intense exercise which rendered me bedridden for almost two years. Just getting up each morning to drive the girls to school was enough to exhaust me for the rest of the day.
In desperation, I began crying out to God for help and going to his word for comfort and relief. I knew from past experiences that unless I made an appointment with him each morning, he’d quickly be forgotten again. So after taking the girls to school, I entered a quiet place where I could be alone with God. Out of need and longing I declared the time sacred and jealously guarded it. Slowly, the relationship that I’d avoided and neglected for so many years began showing signs of life. God rekindled love in my heart toward him, causing it to overflow into my relationship with my husband. With this came healing and restoration.
As I woke from a season of spiritual darkness, I saw with clarity the gradual decline which had taken place. The frog in the kettle analogy took on an entirely new meaning as I reflected on my own slow but progressive hardening toward God and others. I’d discarded once treasured convictions for new goals that met my selfish desires. And though I’d been on the road to rebellion for almost six years, until this point I was completely blind to my heart’s condition.
Eight years have passed since God brought me through this trial. While I’m certain I was a Christian then, I’m still shocked by my pride and the darkness I'm capable of walking in. God showed me and continues to teach me that abiding in his love is essential to a Spirit-filled walk of faith. Spending time in his word and prayer each day keeps me grounded on his truth, confessing my sins and asking for grace to change, to heal, to move forward in his strength and power and wisdom. Without the constant reminder of his love, I’m unable to give love to others or live victoriously in Christ.
Many people, like me, are tempted to believe that the Spirit’s work in regeneration is enough. They go to church, maybe attend a weekly Bible study and occasionally go to a conference or take part in a women’s retreat. Aside from these activities, they don’t spend time alone with God each day, delving into his word seeking to know him better.
Some resist this spiritual discipline by saying they're interested in a relationship and not a practice -- that expressing themselves freely when they're so inclined is what's important to their spiritual life, that knowledge about God is intrinsic while a systematic study of the Word would be merely academic. They claim they’re interested in a personal relationship with God, not just head knowledge. Yet if a person doesn’t know the truth about God as he’s revealed himself in his word, then there’s no way they can ever really become intimate with him. Additionally, it’s impossible to have an effective and powerful prayer life when we aren't praying regularly and we don’t know how to pray according to his will.
No matter how far we’ve wandered from these truths, the road home is always open. I still remember the first day I was alone with God with nowhere to go, no noises to drown his gentle voice beckoning me to come. I was scared of owning up to what I’d done, to admitting that I’d gone my own way for a long, long time. I dreaded the silence, the conviction. Like the prodigal, I made my journey back with little to offer but sorrow and regret. I was greatly surprised to find him waiting for me -- not with a frown and disapproval but with an abundant measure of mercy and grace.
“…the LORD longs to be gracious to you, And therefore He waits on high to have compassion on you.” Is 30:18
