At the Center of It All

I heard you, God.

I’m not getting it all right yet; I’m still learning. You keep finding ways of getting my attention, and of steering me in the right direction, whether or not it’s where I want to go. Well…where I think I want to go anyway.

I heard you this morning when you asked me when I was going to start getting serious about you, God. My first reaction was, “What do you mean? I am serious about you!”

Then you reminded me that for a long time I said I was serious about my marriage. And I was. But it wasn’t where you wanted it to be. I wasn’t growing and I wasn’t keeping the right priorities. You tried to get my attention more than once, but I brushed you aside, gave you lip service, or ignored you. It took a crisis for me to realize where I was heading and to really get serious about my marriage and my priorities.

It’s still a work in progress, but you knew that. I’m still getting things wrong sometimes, but I’m learning, and I’m working diligently to grow and strengthen my marriage every day.

“See?” I said to you. “I’m serious about my marriage. I listened to you. What makes you think I’m not serious about you?”

Then you reminded me that for a long time I said I was serious about my job and my career. But in reality I was stalled. You gave me talents, and instead of investing them, I buried them. I coasted instead of developing and honing and building those talents to fulfill the potential you put in me to become the best teacher I was capable of being. It took some serious challenges before I looked up and noticed how you were trying to get me to pay attention.

I still have a long way to go, but you know that better than I do. I still make mistakes, but I’m working on them and I take seriously the responsibilities you have put in my hands.

“So, God, what’s your point?” My self-righteousness began rising as I talked to you. “You got my attention. I listened. Twice! I turned things around and I’m moving forward now. I do take you seriously.”

Then you reminded me that my relationship with you is not about fixing my mistakes or becoming a better person or even being a great teacher, father, or husband. It’s first about knowing you. The other stuff comes afterwards.

So much of my thinking still needs adjustment. How many times have I treated you like you’re an afterlife insurance salesman? Pay the regular premiums, pray the prayers, confess the sins. But who thinks about their insurance in between the annual payments? How often have I acted like serving the church or serving my family is the same as serving you? I see now that I’ve just been wading ankle deep at the shoreline instead of diving into the ocean.

So finally you asked me a simple, pointed question: “Do you really want to wait for the catastrophe to strike before you finally start to take me seriously?”

Well, I’m still learning, so I can only promise you that while I’m going to take you seriously now–really take you seriously–I’m also going to mess this up at some point. Probably more than once.

But God, I hear you.