I'm Ignoring You, Lord

I’m Ignoring You, Lord

Theology in the Trenches

by Kathleen Kjolhaug

First things first. Isn’t that how the old adage goes? Stepping onto the wooden floorboards as my feet hit the ground, my first thoughts are of You. The pull, the pull to the quiet in order to tarry a while... beckons.

Walking past door number one, I choose door number two and three as I make my way through the house. What’s the big deal; it’s only a few minutes more. I mentally make my list ignoring the call. I’ll just check my messages first.

Upon the table is a reminder to print off a card…and so I do as I step literally through door number four. Next up I note the newly potted plants, and I cannot wait another minute before opening door number five to set them out into the morning sunlight.

Thoughts drift as odds and ends around the house are tended to, and now it is door six and seven that bid me come. Still, I am within reach of that which I breached first thing this morn.

His guiding Light is what I yearn for…long for…and know full well that when I sit with Him first thing…things just work a bit better. In and through all things He works, but in order to listen…I must be still.

By this time I am aware of something deeper. Bothersome it is cause there is a stubbornness I’m feeling today. Lord, what is that? I felt it coming on a couple of days ago. What was it someone once said years back? Back up to when you first notice the distance.

So I do. I trod back…back to door number one. Isn’t that just like You, Lord. You’re always waiting. 

I plop down into the chair which also awaits. What’s up Lord? I know You are constant...You are the Alpha and the Omega…the beginning and the end. I know that it’s not You who has created the distance. What triggered my independence away from my dependence upon You? What says my wayward heart?

It’s coming, Lord…You politely enter my thoughts as I invite You into my stillness.

My confession is in the remembering that I’m doing well only by the grace of God. Oh, foolish pride…as You alone are God and I am not. I give back to you all that You have blessed me with. Forgive me for the sneaky little thought process that invades like weeds in a garden. The belief system where pride officiates over giving glory to You.

As Mother Teresa said, “I am but a pencil in Your hand.”

Something else bubbles to the surface. Slowly it comes...

As much as I am forgiven…I still do not want to forgive. Like that rubber band holding the broasted chicken together in the plastic container, my heart feels bound. Snip that which binds. Circumcise my heart so that I may truly love. Forgive my anger which rises to the surface like bubbling yeast. You alone are the Bread of Life who gives life.

Forgive my unforgiveness. I can so readily see the lack of confession in others. This is a sure sign that my heart is not right. Forgive me.

And just like that…He does. 

I walk out knowing that even though I have closed door number one, it remains open so I may enter again and again and again.  Amen.