Aye. I wish I could say that I was one of those Christians that is in the midst of a love affair with my Bible. But I’m not. At least, not yet. The fact is, it’s a struggle to open my Bible. I own several, in several different version, I place them strategically in different areas of my room, on my bed, in my prayer closet, on my desk. I literally have a Bible in all four corners of my room. Yet, it still takes a deep urge inside of my to sit in silence and read the word of God. It’s funny when I think about it. I often find myself wondering why I don’t hear the voice of God, yet I’ve also come to the understanding that if I do not READ His Word, I won’t be able to HEAR His Word. It’s as simple as that.
I know this is just an extreme case of spiritual warfare. My battle to read the only book out there that can literally bring life to my soul.
I’m sure it is a strategic part of the enemies plan for me to miss out on all the things that God wants to give me in this life.
I can’t let him win.
I want a relationship with my Savior and wisdom in my walk. The only way to achieve this is to open the book.
Sometimes, on my darkest days, I want to fall into the pit of my own thoughts. You know, those thoughts that tell me that I won’t amount to much, that I will always be in this stagnant position, that I will never achieve the things or the relationships that I desire. Those thoughts. They find me the most at work. while I am staring at a computer, blankly entering data. This seems to be when I am the most vulnerable. I catch myself wanting to stay there. Wanting to take a front row seat at my own theater production of pitifulness. Sometimes, I even imagine the negative effects of a story that isn’t even mine. Vain imaginations. They become me.
But, somewhere in this dark forest that I have wandered into is something, someone, that keeps me from frantically running further into darkness. I found that even though I want to be lost in the sea of my own depression, there is a force that brings me back to a large reality. My God is too big.
It’s like I can feel Him, gently touching my arm to grab my attention. Asking me to turn away from a path of darkness and to His path of light.
I want to drown. Just like the rest of my peers. Just like the rest of this world.
But He won’t let me. Instead, He takes my hand, reminds me of the light and ease that is on His path.