I’m busy. I have important stuff to do. Every day, I am reminded of the schedule before me, the expectations and needs of others, the very certain and deliberate manner in which life consumes my time and energy. I admit, there are days when I fully resent it all; I want to pull the covers over my head, tuck my leg pillow just so and beg the sun not to rise just yet. I hear the words of my mother, chiding fifteen-year old me on a Saturday morning, “Get up, Lisa. You can sleep when you’re dead.” The older I get, the truer those words seem, as if time itself were prodding me from my slumber, beckoning me to arise and live my life.
After all, there are “planes to catch, bills to pay,” (like old Harry Chapin sang), and time waits for no man. So we rise. We get up and we do what needs to be done, day in and day out, punching the proverbial time clock, taking care of business, putting in our 40 so we can pay Uncle Sam and the electric company, the car note, the cell phone bill, buy the groceries, you know the drill. You’re overwhelmingly aware of the drill, right guys?
So, just wondering…when do you live? When do you stop long enough to look people in the eye and tell them they matter to you? When do you stand still and stare at the full moon on a crystal-clear night and just let the awe of God wash over you? When was the last time you experienced wonder? Not like, I wonder whatever happened to the Smothers Brothers? You can ask Google that. I’m talking about the hair-raising, breathless, rock-you-on-your-heels wonder that you feel when you recognize the majesty of sovereign God at work in your life; the kind of curious marvel you sense when you just know God is in the midst of you. This is the stuff—surely you’ve experienced it before—the peace that passes understanding that instantly calms your spirit and soothes the gaping wound that every brokenhearted human being carries from the womb into the grave. Once you’ve felt that healing salve, nothing else compares to it. Not the new car smell. Not the promotion you’ve been working overtime to attain for so long. Not even true love’s kiss can match the bliss of seeing Him show up in the midst of your harried agenda and graze your arm gently with His hand.
If you’re not careful, you will miss it. You will rush by Him, ignoring the still, small Voice that beckons you to stop for a moment and take in His presence. You will miss it. You will plod through the calendar, day after week after month after year, and you will miss it. You will forget what His tender tone sounds like to your weary ears, the easy way He says your name, that divine dialect that calls you out of your chaotic existence, begging you to sit a moment with Him.
God is in relentless pursuit of a monogamous love relationship with you. YOU. Are you really that busy? If your answer is yes, then let me just admonish you, friend. You are too busy.
Let Him in.
Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, and spend a year there and engage in business and make a profit.” Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away.
Song of Solomon 2:10
My beloved spoke, and said to me:
“Rise up, my love, my fair one,
And come away.”
God is always seeking you. Every sunset, every clear blue sky, every ocean wave, the starry host of night. He blankets each day with the invitation, “I am here.”