Dear God,
It’s been a while. My soul feels dry, my heart heavy. I miss you, and I don’t know what to say except I’m sorry.
I’m sorry I’ve let the pages of my Bible collect dust while my phone has been a constant companion.
I’m sorry I’ve let the guilt of the sin I don’t want to give up just yet keep me from your merciful presence.
I’m sorry I’ve let my anger or disappointment over the circumstances of my life keep me from telling you how grateful I am just to be alive.
I’m sorry I’ve turned people and things and dreams and fears into idols that consume my mind.
I’m sorry I’ve left no room for you in my inn.
The thing is, I know better. We’ve been friends for years. I would hate it if someone I loved treated me the way I treat you. If they took my love for granted like I do yours.
I feel hurt when someone doesn’t respond to a text, and here you are with a whole book written just for me, an outpouring of your heart to mine, and I can’t be bothered to open it.
You sent your beloved son to the cross so our relationship could be restored, so I can talk to you whenever I want without needing a priest to slaughter a sheep on my behalf, and I barely say hello to you some days.
I don’t deserve your love. I don’t deserve your kindness. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I feel the need to earn those things, to read my Bible or pray or lie with my nose to the ground until you’re ready to take me back.
But that’s not how you work, is it?
You threw a party to welcome home the prodigal, the child who wished you dead and spent your money on sex.
You cooked a breakfast of fish for Peter, the man who denied knowing you because he was afraid to die with you.
You washed the feet of Judas, the friend who would seal your fate with a kiss for a few silver coins.
When I finally open my dusty Bible again, I see story after story of you proving that you don’t set limits on your forgiveness. That your kindness can’t be bought because you offer it for free.
That no one is too far gone from your love.
So even though I’ve felt far from you for a while, tonight I’m drawing near and asking you to do the same. Please meet me in my brokenness, my need, my shame. Please remind me that even though you feel far away right now, you never really are.
Please bring your gentle and lowly heart close to mine.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.
Image by Gerd Altmann
ABOUT OUR BLOGGER
Kati Lynn Davis grew up in Chester County. After a brief stay on the other side of Pennsylvania to earn a writing degree from the University of Pittsburgh, she returned to the area and got a job working for a local library.
When she isn’t writing, Kati enjoys reading, drawing, watching movies (especially animated ones!), drinking bubble tea, hanging out with her family cat, and going for very slow runs.
Kati is pretty sure she’s an Enneagram 4 but is constantly having an identity crisis over it, so thankfully she’s learning to root her sense of self in Jesus.
Women's IF: 2024 Conference
IF:2024 is a two-day event where women all over the world gather together, get equipped, and discover the next step in their calling: to go and make disciples. It will be held on Friday, March 15 from 6:30 p.m. - 9:30 p.m. and on Saturday, March 16 from 9:30 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. at our Kennett Campus.
Registration deadline is March 7, 2024.
CLICK HERE for more information and registration.