chasing the sun

for no particular reason, I found myself lying in bed last night, unable to sleep. It might’ve been the slight hunger pains I was having or the annoyance I felt at being slighted by a boy I like that kept me from being able to rest comfortably, I can't be sure. Nevertheless, I switched on my bedside lamp and rummaged through a few books before settling on my Bible. Yesterday, my pastor challenged us to begin meditating on Psalm 1 in preparation for next week’s sermon, so I opened to it with only a vague recollection of ever having read it before.

1 Blessed is the man
who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked
or stand in the way of sinners
or sit in the seat of mockers.
2 But his delight is in the law of the LORD,
and on his law he meditates day and night.

As I read and reread this, I was asking God why it is so hard for me to read my Bible, or to want to read my Bible and to meditate on it, rather than the latest book about spirituality. My pastor used the language of appetite to describe it, implying that there are things which can spoil your appetite for God and His word the way snacking before supper can spoil your enjoyment for a perfectly prepared meal.

I am so utterly convicted by this because, honestly, I’ve given up reading the Bible and praying and doing those Christiany things that are supposed to get you to heaven. I don’t know how I got here, but I think at some point in time I started to doubt my own ability to understand scripture, and so I quit reading it. And when I quit reading my Bible, I began thinking God was upset with me so I started trying to avoid Him too. There have been lucid moments where I’ve cried out to Him, and recently I’ve started talking to Him on an as-needed basis. But I feel so completely ashamed of myself and unsure of how to proceed.

There was this moment, maybe two months ago, when I felt that God had stopped pursuing me. And maybe it was I who originally issued the ultimatum, daring God to show up and do what I knew He could do if He really wanted to. He could give me a passion for Him. He could provide for my needs and the needs of my friends. He could give me a husband. He could supply a salary for me so that I could do the work I want to do, fully supported and unfettered.

So, I stood there, I think I was in church at the time, being mad at Him for not doing those things for me and for the people I love. And I started to feel alone and cold, like maybe my heart was hard and I was no longer welcome in His presence. It’s hard to describe the anxiousness I felt and still feel occasionally when I wonder if He’s still listening or if He’s given up on me completely.

How can I have learned so much and be so passionate about the things of God, and yet feel so far away from Him? How can you begin to feel truly and deeply loved by God? Shouldn’t He, above everyone, know my love language and care to speak it to me? Would I even hear Him if He did? Is the fortress I’ve spent a lifetime building up around myself, now keeping God out too?