Just Another Manic Monday

Can we speak of the Bible again? For just a moment? Before, when I engineered this hope of revival for myself, I was dedicated to a daily reading of the Bible. But it hasn't worked out the way I wanted it to.

For one, I have not been as disciplined as I'd like to be. In fact, I've been far from it. But more importantly, I was only looking at the Bible as a source of wisdom, not as a source of the everlasting God. I have had more readings of the Bible in the past month than in the past 4 or 5, but in all that time, I have probably felt God once. It stayed a chore, a duty to fulfill. Even though I took the time to read a chapter or two, I didn't take the time to hear. It's almost like Secret of the Easy Yoke, only I'm not the only one. And I pray half-hearted, if I pray at all. And if no one answers, it's because I hung up before they could respond.

And, then, to be honest, even as I'm writing all I can here is "peace, be still." It's like learning that I can't carry the burden I've set for myself. The problem comes when I still see and feel sin, but I don't let someone else carry the weight of my crimes. I accept it as my own and now I'm buckling under it. But I don't know how to give it up.

The problem isn't realizing the need. The problem is not becoming complacent again. This has happened before. But I don't want it to happen again. Let's face facts, part of it is not having a job, not having a daily goal. And part if it is the luxury of no one forcing you to address these things, or giving you an example. I don't know. I am shitting on the page, making excuses. And if you were to talk to me, or try to keep me accountable, I would say "yeah, yeah, whatever." I am asking for comfort, not dedication. What am I getting at?

I don't have more to say. All I have done is expressed a set of ideas as to how I am in relation to God, which is to say, not good.

Here it is expressed in a Relient K song, saying exactly what I want/need to hear, like an optimistic Pedro the Lion:

"It's 3p.m." she said,
I said "You're crazy"
She said "Get out of bed, why are you so lazy? Why waste the day away?"
I said, "Because I'm tired"
"Wendy's called by the way, they told me that you're fired."

Woah oh oh, Woah oh oh
So wreckless for all these years
Woah oh oh, woah oh oh
I crash into a wall
Woah oh oh , Woah oh oh
there's a ringing in my ears
Woah oh oh, Woah oh oh
and it's my wake up call
Jesus gave me a wake up call
oh
take this world with a grain of salt
Jesus gave me a wake up call

"It's 3 a.m." she said,
"Who are you, Matchbox 20?"
She said, "Are you getting rest?"
Sarcastic, I said "Plenty."
"Don't be a hypocrit."
I asked "What are you saying?"
"When you praise God, do you meant it?
Are you sleeping when you're praying?"

The second verse hurts more than the first. It makes me scream "this is me, this is me, please God, bring me peace." And now I am done. And if I haven't made sense, I can take comfort because "In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express" (Romans 8:26). And then go read Romans 8:37-39, and together we will weep with joy.