Sometimes I feel as if I could juuuuust stretch my fingers out one more letter, I’d be able to feel the Holy Spirit flowing through me again… the way it used to be. It’s just like the passion I felt on Sunday morning that I had not felt in sooooo long. The part of me that is consumed with fire and eager pursuit of my Lord woke up and said, “Where have you been? What have you been doing? Let’s go! Quit fooling around and get on your feet, girl!!! We have things to do, places to go, people to see…� Then I left the meeting, got home, got back into my same old routine and thought, “Where did it go?� It was gone. The passion, the fire, the whatever-it-was-that-awoke, seemed to have faded away into a dull, get-through-the-day apathy.
I want fervor! I want zeal! Life seems so doggone overwhelming and I feel like if I could just have Holy Spirit energy, I’d be able to wade through the muck like it was clear water. I need His Word to enervate me again, so that when I read, I receive real life rather than some insipid sameness. So, I am reading again. I never really stopped, but I haven’t really focused on seeking Him in the text either. I looked for something I could use rather than something I could metabolize into my spirit-man. Sometimes it seemed like all I was doing was looking for something to give someone else and the essence of what it said passed right over me, slipped right through my fingers like sand.
The Word…His Word…Living Words of Life…I need so desperately. I’m tired of songs that say how desperate we are for God or how passionate we feel towards God when they’ve all faded into daily background music courtesy of radio. Some song that meant something when it was written has become a distant, faded work of art that’s been exposed to sunlight too long. The vivacity has faded to washed-out colors and sounds—or as Dave Grohl sings on the Foo Fighters’ song “Come Alive�…�every sound monotone, every color monochrome, life began to fade into the black…�
Scripture has its own rhythm and rolls to a different kind of music than we are used to in our pop culture. There are no verses or choruses or bridges—just a recitative with a swelling and fading choral background and orchestral accompaniment that accents or detracts from the vocals as the conductor chooses. The words clarify the intent of the composer. The underlying unheard music carries His heart. I want to know both the intent and the heart! I can no longer search the holy word only for others when I need His Bread of Life and Living Water for myself as well. Frankly, I just need His LIFE living in me, through me, for me.
The problem is that I’m so used to just living my life myself. I get myself out of bed, dressed for work, and to work. Then the day drags on, and finally lunch comes, and then finally, finally 5:00 is here and I can go home to the mundane chores and duties that await me…that overwhelm me by their very magnitude. I have so much stuff and nowhere to put it all! So I wade through the lesser tasks like dishes and laundry, help my husband with the checkbook sometimes, and procrastinate on anything I can. Where’s the LIFE in that? I go to bed wondering where the day went and where was God in my day. I can think of moments here and there, conversations that occur, and thoughts floating through my brain, but no consistent awareness of His presence.
Ah, Lord, I feel like Paul in Romans 7 where my bodily person fights against my spirit person. Save me, dear Jesus, from myself and set my heart ablaze for You once more.
