Yesterday in church, while I was attempting to make the announcements while lying on the floor (don't ask, I do have silly ideas sometimes), I felt overwhelmed by God's presence and began to weep. I didn't know what to do except pay attention to what he was doing and not leave the place I was in, so I did just that and Dean managed to handle the announcements himself for the most part and I hope the visitors weren't too freaked out.
The thing God kept saying over and over to me was, "Come, come, come! You choose to do everything else first, you go lots of places, you turn to many people and things before me, but I am here, waiting. Come! I want you to come to me, I am here for you!" It is true. When I get a rather large list of things I need to accomplish or I am surrounded by activity, I start down the busy road and before I know it, the day is pretty much over and I have yet to connect with God.
Today, the day after God asked me to "Come," my tasks were many. I wish I could say that I heard and obeyed and spent the first part of my day sitting with God and getting his input on everything, but I jumped right into my job list and 11 hours later, I still have a few to complete before I can relax. I also don't take time for meals a lot of days and that is a symptom of the same problem: I think doing stuff is more important because it gives me a sense of accomplishment and I can point to it and say, "Hey, I am a useful member of society and I pull my weight, even if I don't have a recognised career or a handsome income!" But all of my efforts are worth little if I do not have the strength to carry on or the spiritual depth to give any of it meaning and true value and perspective.
God really is not all that interested in my hard work or tireless efforts: he wants my heart, my friendship, my company, and to go for a walk in the garden with me like he did with Adam. The hard work came as a result of sin, of not relying on God, of wanting to order our own universe instead of going with his well-established plan, of not coming to him but hiding in our doings and anything else we could find. Will I continue to live like that self-reliant Adam, or will I believe that Jesus somehow reversed this cursed substitute value system of labour and walk with him anytime he says come?
This is an insubstantial photo of my friend, Cathy, on a trail near Dundas, Ontario.