Today, I woke up late. I rolled to consciousness still sleepy and groggy from last night’s dosage of alcohol. It was my cousin’s birthday and as thankful as I was that I believed God used me in that time to speak to several people that may never have had a chance to hear Him in their current environment, I couldn’t help but feel… dirty. The stain of sin and my cousin’s obliviousness to its gravity cut me deep and made me feel so distant from God that the normal darts the enemy throws (like the temptation to feel worry and doubt about the newest transitions in my life, bills and other things) hit my shield made me feel off balance. My instability was only compounded by my low emotional level. Now, before you begin preaching to me, let me assure you, I knew God was right in the midst and that He hadn’t vacated His residency in my heart. I knew the remedy was to sit and commune with Him; to let Him heal my battle wounds and patch me up again before sending me back out into the fight, but I could almost feel the battle going on withint me. Then, like the two little people in the cartoons that appear on the shoulders of the protagonist, a conversation began:
Flesh: It’s Saturday. You need to be cleaning this house to show God how good of a steward you are for your new house!
Spirit: No, there isn’t enough bleach in existence to show God that you are good enough for anything. He desires your attention. You haven’t talked to Him at all today, and He still woke you up and allowed you to live.
It was like a megaphone in my head and still, knowing the lines drawn in the sand, something in me drove me to stand and begin the fruitless task of cleaning the house. The whole time the small voice kept saying in increasing volume increments, “Really? You just gonna ignore Me? I know you see all this sin that needs to be cleaned up. What’s more important?”
Finally, when the small voice had climbed to a moderate conversational level and I was cleaning up the spilled tea off of the stove, He hit me a lot harder than normal, “Remember when you were writing what I gave you about the heart being the foundation? How physical action ultimately comes from what’s in the heart (I’ll post that series later)? Your actions today haven’t shown indication that I am priority at all. Should I leave?”
I stopped mid-swipe… wow… Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. The guilt. The low feeling of being wrong in the eyes of God for something you consciously chose to do. I walked to the area where I pray and looked at one of my daily inspirationals. This is what it said:
Have you ever been driven to do something for God not because you felt that it was useful or your duty to do so, or there was anything in it for you, but simply because you love Him? I’m referring to ordinary, simple human things – things which would be evidence to God that you are totally surrendered to Him? (Mark 14:1-7)
Sorrowful and repentive, I knelt down to pray…
I never want to feel or experience that again, and it made me wonder how many times a day do we go about our daily tasks and ignore the still small voice either knowingly or unknowingly. I pray for swifter obedience to my Father’s voice and that He withdraw not the amazing blessing of His voice in my soul.