To live again

The week is almost over, and I still haven't fulfilled my post-per-week challenge, so I'm sitting here and wondering what I should write about as the end of the day draws near.

I feel like I've been really wasting my life lately. I haven't been reaching out to God; I've become so content with my desert-like state that I've forgotten how to cry out to him... I've drunk so little of the Water of Life that tears no longer come. I'm too numb to feel the pain of my loneliness; I've hardened my heart until my conscience barely pricks me. It hurts me that I've forsaken the love of my life and forgotten how to yearn. I'm reading Hosea, but I'm not convicted; I see myself in every line, but I don't repent.

At various points in my life, I've found myself consumed by things. For instance, I can remember hearing some songs from Les Miserables for the first time and being unable to pull them from, not only my mind, but my whole being for days afterward. I was so deeply affected by the music that I lost touch with the outside world, living within the songs and watching reality race around me, distant and detached.

I also remember being consumed by a desire for money once. I sat down, and, without letting God refine and referee my thoughts, considered my future and how I could make enough money to sustain myself. My thoughts began racing through imaginary store ailes, pointing out all of the necessities for which I'd have to work as an adult; my brain began calculating how much I'd make, how much I'd save, and how much I'd have to spend, and I found myself completely lost in a world of competition and despair -- all thoughts of helping the less-fortunate thrown aside as I focused on how to make the most for myself.

I've been consumed by sin, schoolwork, the Internet, sorrow, flippancy, romance, despair...

But by God? I can remember a few instances... right after I was saved, for instance, or in times of tribulation. I can remember a few times when I felt like a child in the womb: utterly helpless, utterly protected, and sustained solely by the nourishment of God. I can remember a few times when I felt like there was nothing else in my life but God, and I wanted to keep it that way.

A few times.

I realise, tonight, that I've created an idol for myself: a god who is content with taking the passenger seat, who feels no jealousy for the soul he bought and who has no burning passion to destroy the distance between us. That's not the God of the Bible -- not the God I accepted five years ago -- but he's become the god I serve; the warped image of God that I've created to suit my life and the sin that I can't seem to let go of.

I want to cast away the idol and turn to the real God; the one who loved me so much that he died for me, and who yearns to see me return that love. I want to serve the God who knows more of me than anyone in the world has ever cared to know, and who expects more of me than anyone in the world has ever bothered to expect. I want to be consumed again. I want to be intertwined with, melted into, and joined to the universe's blessed Creator.

Whatever it takes. Please pray for me. Pray "dangerous" prayers -- prayers that will challenge me to give up all the things I think I need and reach out to the real Source whatever the cost. I want lukewarm to end tonight. I know He does, too.

Lord, teach me to live again.

fragility

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I'm Oksana—Communication major, shutterbug, occasional blogger, incessant doodler, graphic design geek, and writer of sentimental prose. I am quite content to spend an afternoon with a pencil, a few blank Moleskine pages, and a playlist of indie folk. I love musical theatre, black-&-white movies, and Eastern European illustration. Conversations with strangers make my day. When it rains, I make a beeline for my mug of green tea and stack of 19th-century fiction. I'm vegetarian about 98% of the time. I'm extremely awkward and rather nerdy. I love the sea. My name means 'hosanna' and I'm having the time of my life living to praise the One who set me free.

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