Life is so busy all the time.  The statement that never fails, right?  It’s so funny how I live life moving in and out of the motions, yet sincerely trying to enjoy the time as it flies by.  There is so much going on all of the time…

then suddenly it settles.  All at once there is nothing to do.  Literally nothing.  And then, when I least expect it, I remember I have a blog and people who check in on me.  And I can’t believe I haven’t touched it since October.  I say that every time.

My relationship with my blog reminds me of my relationship with God.  I forget about it when I’m so busy and just trying to enjoy my life and my husband.   And when the world dies down a little, I suddenly remember.  “Oh, God, I’m so sorry I forgot about you.  Has it really been that long?”  But, like my blog, if I’d only put in a little more time and energy and effort, I would feel so much more fulfilled and appreciated.  Why do I do this?  Why can’t I keep God a priority in my life and in my marriage?  I don’t directly defy God–I just don’t pay attention, which may be worse.  I don’t rely on him at all.  Maybe it’s like my blog–I’m afraid of the rejection, like he really won’t check in on me and nothing would change even if I did talk to him.  But I think it’s more got to do with guilt.  Like I haven’t come to him and talked to him in so long, he’s going to say, “Well, it’s about time.  Where the hell have you been?” (no pun intended.  God’s a funny guy).  But I know that I don’t love a God of guilt, I love a God of grace and compassion.  That he’ll always forgive me…and that’s where I feel like we don’t relate.  If anyone treated me like I treat God I would hate them.  I feed him all these promises of my love and my undying devotion, and I sing these songs in my earnest worship, and then I forget.

I forget every time.

Until it quiets down, and I reflect.  I don’t know why, but it’s true:  it’s always when he’s gone.

Matt’s gone.  He’s in New York.  My eyes are welling up, not because I miss him (although I do terribly), but because I’m so incredibly proud of him.  My hubby is out in NY with some prestigious and well-established musicians and producers helping make his dream come true.  They are investing in his band and his ability, and making him a better musician.  I couldn’t be more excited for him.  And I get to go visit him.  On Feb. 12 I’m flying out to hang out with my man in New York.  That’s sexy.

Matt and I have such a great…and interesting…relationship.  He consumes so much of my time and energy, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.  I absolutely adore him, yet we have some of the worst fights.  We make each other so mad–and worse.  I’ve never met someone who I could love and despise so much from one minute to the next.  And I feel like it’s all okay, because he’s human and I’m human.  We always forgive each other, and that goes without saying.  And I trust that he will always forgive me.

So why can’t I have the same faith in God?  Why can’t I put the same effort and time into my relationship with him?  I think it’s because I’m human, and although Jesus was too, he was still Perfect.  He was Love.  And I’ll never measure up to that.  I’ll never feel like I’m worthy of a relationship with someone who is so far above me.  Yet, Matt is just one man.  And if just one man can love me like he does, I can’t imagine how God must feel about me.  He must think I’m awesome, since the things Matt loves about me are the things that God created Himself.

I’ve made a couple conclusions, cliche, I know.  #1.  I don’t have to have big exciting news to blog.  It feels really good just to create something with my thoughts behind it.   I just have to remember to do it, case in point.  #2.  God is bigger than a man.  And if he’s bigger and more in love with me than my man is, I’m already impressed.  I know if Matt can forgive me, God can forgive me too.  I’m just really struggling with His perfection.  I expect Matt to be imperfect, so I feel like it’s okay that I’m imperfect too.  But with God it’s different.  I know I’m so far less than perfect.  And I feel like if I don’t come to him with this overwhelming sense of gratitude and awe, I don’t deserve to come to him at all, so I hide.  I push it to the back of my mind so I don’t have to face him, and I’m tired of doing that.  He must be tired of it too.  Where do I start?  What’s my next step?  I’ve said I’m sorry so many times for leaving Him out.  I don’t know how not to be intimidated by his love and perfection.  Perhaps that’s the real definition of fearing God.