Had one of those Sundays this last week when I was far too cynical and sarcastic for church. And my best friend sitting next to me patiently listened to and smiled at all of my colorful remarks. I blame it on whoever's speaking, the music that's playing, or the video that made me roll my eyes. But whatever the case, I usually do a good job of placing the blame on anyone or anything but my pessimistic state. I felt like that cranky old lady who sits in the same spot every week, uses the same pen to take notes, expecting to hear the same old cliches being spoken from the pulpit, and throwing eye daggers at people as they try to greet me during the "everybody greet your neighbor time." And as much as my friend got a good laugh from watching all of my snarky facial expressions, I was saddened. I was saddened because I know full well that there was a time that this was not my walk with the Lord. I used to be the weird one who stands up when no one else is, who's eager to meet new comers, who enthusiastically nods when the pastor says something revolutionary, or who always has something to say that the Lord's been teaching them. I began to think, "Maybe I don't love the Lord as much as I used to or maybe I don't need Him as much as I used to. Now before you all start praying for me to come back to the Lord, let me further explain my point.
I realized that it's not that I love the Lord any less or need Him any less. I don't just wake up and decide to be negative. It's a process. It's the little moments when I allow the voice of bitterness to drown out the sweetness of God's still small voice. When I choose to stare at the computer in lieu of taking in the sunset just behind the window curtain. When I work on date entry instead of taking a break to listen to the kids' latest knock knock jokes. When I restrain myself from singing at the top of my lungs in the car because of the disapproving looks I might receive from the passersby. When I choose sarcasm because I'm too nervous to hold a genuine conversation. When I deflect the good feelings that come with receiving compliments and change the subject. When I choose to do it myself as a way of declaring my independence in place of accepting the offer of help from others. When I allow the pain that comes with hearing hurtful comments turn into bitterness. When I fail to line up the lies I hear with God's truth. And the list could go on.
Bottom line is, I need romance to come back into my life. I don't mean the kind that involves a man and a woman. I mean the kind that gives you the ability to appreciate the beauty and excitement that every moment has the capacity to hold. The kind of romance that can only be discovered in living out a story that is bigger than your own. The kind that challenges you to look beyond the routine of daily living to discover a purpose greater than any you could think of by yourself. It's the kind of romance that brings me back to the place I began, in the loving arms of my Heavenly Father. It's where I belong, it's where I've always belonged. It's not about finding God at church, it's about finding God in every moment and being the church. Church is a good place to find fellowship, encouragement, and refreshment, but it's not the ultimate answer. God is. And when I am resting in His arms, even when I'm at church, there just isn't any room for cynicism.
No comments:
Post a Comment