Paying Attention

One of my biggest struggles with my faith is the acceptance that I can get better.

I find myself striving to be more patient, understanding, gracious, and righteous. Yet there is this nagging voice in the back of my head (not my heart) that whispers about failure. About how I will never be good enough, that I will never really "get" it, that there's no way to really hear and understand the voice of God.

I know who this voice comes from. So I cling to 2 Corinthians 3:17-18, which explains that if we are in Christ, we are ever moving forward. We are ever reaching and ever drawing closer to Him. As sinful beings, we will never reach perfection. But Christ has asked us to try. And He will bless that trying.

So I am trying.

New Years Eve of 2008 leading into 2009 I made a resolution to do better. 2009 was a great year. New Years Eve of 2009 leading into 2010 I made the same resolution - to do even better. Again.

It is only April and more life-changing experiences have been had and decisions been made than I can remember making in years. But my approach to each one of them has been almost free of anxiety and soaked in prayer. Up until this last decision, the answer has been clear. Delivered with peace and gusts of wind and opportunity.

This last decision, however, has been a difficult one. Seemingly one of the most important decisions I will ever make, I was presented with two right ones.

None of this discerning between what is right and what is wrong. No. I was given an option. Two opportunities, seemingly the same. I asked for direction. God promised to be with me wherever I go. I asked for peace and didn't receive it. I asked for my eyes to be open to risk. I was offered safety.

I want to be familiar with the voice of God. I want to be able to know in my heart what His will is. It is my personality to verbalize the directions of the Spirit. To talk out the stirring in my heart. Some might find this offensive. I'm not always as reverent as I should be.

God is funny. And I think He's sarcastic. I think He can be dramatic and sometimes He can be so quiet that everything in the world feels a need to stop.

This personification of the Father comes from my deepest desire to know Him as such. To crawl up in His lap and let Him play with my hair. To stand on His feet while we dance together. To walk hand in hand down the road while He points out things I've never noticed before. He says a lot of the same things over and over again, because I'm stubborn and I don't listen. But sometimes He says new things.

There are days when I second guess myself. Did I just THINK I heard the voice of God? Did I just call a thought of the flesh something from Heaven?

I will go ahead and tell you that if that happens... God shuts it down quickly. If a word comes from my mouth that didn't really come from Him... He lets me know.

That nasty whispering voice in the back of my head sometimes tells me that I don't know what God sounds like. How could I possibly have heard Him that clearly? I am a sinner and I am full of fault and it is prideful and blasphemous to say I know what God is saying...

But that is not the still small voice.

I believe that God will forever remain a mystery. We will never be able to reach His depths or run His distance or stretch His width. He will forever be doing new things, saying new things, loving us in new ways.

But He will always want us to be close. His desire is not to be a stranger. He isn't out to play a hide and seek, guessing game with us. But He will push us. He will let us draw near. And He will move higher. Ever higher. From glory to glory.

We must remain in humility, in complete awe and reverence of His holiness and power. But we will follow the sound of His familiar voice. Becoming more in tune and more familiar with its tone and message as every day passes. Laughing at His jokes. Rejoicing in His glorious habits.

We just have to pay attention.

Becoming familiar with the character of God. So when His voice is quiet and He seems really far away... we still might know His will. That even if we can't see Him, we can see where He's been. Recognizing the effects of His presence, the echo of His voice.

And day by day, we will get better. Grow stronger. We will be filled more with Christ. Brimming with His love. Our desires will be all wrapped up in Him and our delight will be His.

We will start paying attention to this life - the things that draw us closer to Him, that which deters us. We will do better. We will be filled with a "glorious and inexpressible joy".

Because we love Him.

And... believe it or not...

He loves us.

Look for Him. Pay attention, because He is moving all around you. He shows up when you ask Him to and in ways you'd never dream. He wants to talk to you. He wants you to hear Him and understand Him. He wants to live your life with you.

Actually.

He wants your life.

And He wants you to live life with Him.

So I return to my two right decisions. Feeling like I might end up drawing a purple horse.

And I realize that He had a new answer for me. That He was doing something new. Offering me a gift and challenging my faith in Him.

"Let me quiet you with my love, rejoice over you with singing. Live where I live. Take this gift. Rest in the shadow of my wings."