I’ve been feeling it again. That low-grade ache of discontentment. That inner restlessness, nagging, gnawing, something softly knocking. That unnamed longing for something more even on days I finally catch my breath, catch up on laundry, or make it to bedtime without being called a mean mean mommy.
I don’t know why it takes me so long to recognize the source — God’s still small voice. Calling yet again to return to Him, spend time with Him.
I’ve been choosing the trap of glowing screens and too many late-night scrolling minutes. (Whoa, where did the last hour go?) I like to be alone. Alone with my thoughts. Alone in my uninterrupted bubble, an insulated reprieve from all the demands and needs. I like to be alone — yet tethered to a gazillion disconnected friends. (Cute cat! Sad story. Hey, she’s pregnant again! ) Is vegging out such a sin?
The evidence of my choice shows up the next morning in dark undereye circles and two more snooze cycles. Do I have to drag myself awake?
I’m too tired and distracted to hear Him call: Come to me. Connect with me.
(Can you relate? Have been you been there? Are you there today?)
It’s not like a don’t read my Bible. It’s not like I don’t pray. I’m good with God. We talk throughout the day. I’m okay.
But what if doing enough to spiritually get by isn’t the point?
I’m finally listening to my longing and admitting that there’s something in my lived-out priorities that’s outta whack. My soul hungers for more. And more social media, more sleep, more viral videos, more home organization, more activities or mindless TV isn’t going to cut it. You and I were made for more.
We were cut out for divine connection.
Join me today at (in)courage for the rest of this story!