Prodigal

Two nights ago I did something big: I picked up my Bible. I was ready to read just a little bit. It's like I went on this detox to get all this "dogma" out of my system, all of the opinions of men. Now the detox is nearing its end and I'm ready for something pure, I'm ready to hear what God has to say. I needed to know that I couldn't find love that satisfies fully out in the world. I had to know that for sure so that I could come back to God and say, "I know You're the real thing". I had to come back to the primitive belief that, yes, there is a God. Perhaps that's easier for me than most. For me, its never been a question. All I have to do is look at nature to know there's a God. All I have to do is look at people, circumstances, and I know. We have a big God. A creative God. And He's a lot different that what people tell you. You can only tell someone about God so much; they have to experience God. I know that sounds preacher-ish, but I think its true. You have to know for yourself and you have to see God for who He is. Human words can't describe it. Maybe that's why the Bible is so big-people trying to describe God in every way they can.

So, anyway, I was ready to open up my Bible again. I think I opened to the book of Job. I read a bit there and then went on the Psalms. I didn't read a whole lot, but let me tell you, I was captivated! After not reading this Book for so long and having shed the glasses of the ideas of men, this Book was amazing! The beauty of words that I had no doubt came straight from God. I've been reading a lot of really good books the past few months, but they seemed so trite compared to what I was reading at the moment. It was a magical experience.

Now, I've done more praying through this whole ordeal than you may think I have. I've had at least one heart-to-heart with God. What surprised me was that God still loved me. He wasn't looking at me sin, I could just tell. He was looking at me, His creation, who I was. He was looking at me on this journey and He understood because He had lain the path beneath my feet. The reason I was surprised at this was that I have trained myself to believe that if I so much as don't say my morning prayers, God hates me and I'm going to have to put on one heck of a show to prove to Him that I'm sorry (even if I don't truly feel it). I have a lot of unconfessed sins at the moment, but somehow I get the idea that God isn't interested in hearing my confessions; He's interesting in hearing my thoughts, my heart.

So, after I'd read a bit of the Bible, I turned of the light, lay down in bed and prayed. I used to do this a lot, and most of my real praying is done as I'm falling asleep. I recall someone calling it "pillow talk" with God. I just talked to God about what I thought about Him, about me, and about what was going on. I reminded God that I do love Him, that I always have. He knows. This journey is far from over, but I think I've taken the first steps home. And I know the God wants me to take my time and that He will always be there to guide me, the prodigal daughter.