On Saturdays, I meet a dear friend of mine, Lady Di, at a local coffee shop, Stonewood. I love, love, love this place. The coffee is divine (I highly recommend the French Press of your favorite roast) and the tea is exquisite. Lady Di sips Gunpowder Green whilst I chug my bottomless cuppa Jo. The food is quite tasty, too. I usually arrive a little after nine and leave when the manager gives Lady Di and I the nod (just after two…when they close). It’s probably a good thing they close at two, otherwise, my hubby might send out a search party. Or he could text me.
Is anything better than coffee and conversations with a friend? When I leave Stonewood (sometimes kicking and screaming), I am motivated and energized. We volley words about writing, reading, truth, and God. Ultimately, and always, God. We savor the sweet aroma of His Word and let it penetrate our pores. He is there in our midst, feeding and nurturing us, the way only a Father can.
I have been struggling with many things this past year (gee, is it already 2014? I was just acclimating myself to the climate of 2013!) through my soul-searching, gut-wrenching, tear-jerking bible studies. God has revealed gaping wounds that have been there for years. He pointed out things like my obsession with and hatred for double standards (and my subsequent need for justice), my all-or-nothing approach to life and people, how I spend my time and money, being still before Him, my confusion over my legalistic past, and my paper-thin prayer life. So yeah. Nothing a little Hello Kitty band-aid and some Campho-Phenique won’t fix.
Lady Di and I have discussed these issues. I’ve journaled about them. I’ve searched scriptures. And honestly, I have felt stagnant. Like I can’t move forward in my spiritual journey without allowing Him to heal these wounds. But where to start? I know it’s going to take lots of work. Saturday, as I sat across from my friend, she could see the uncertainty hanging from my neck like an infinity scarf. She asked, “Are you visitin’ with God?” (She’s from Oklahoma, so yes, the word is “visitin'”) Her question took me by complete surprise and left me open-mouthed and silent (which is a rarity for me). My answer, sadly, was, “No.”
Why is it I can spend HOURS sitting across from a friend on a Saturday and discuss everything, but I can’t spend five minutes visitin’ with God? Oh, I can read scripture and spend hours dissecting it or engaged in study, but that’s not visitin’. Visitin’ requires familiarity and a willingness for both parties to participate. God is certainly familiar with me (He knows the hairs on my head, even the gray ones) and is always willing. Why, then, am I not? Perhaps it stems from my legalistic background, perhaps it’s about fear, perhaps it’s about my sense of unworthiness. Truth is, God wants to visit with me. I just have to open the door of my home (and my heart) to let Him in. Revelation 3:20 says that we should open the doors of our homes to Jesus, let Him in, and then share a meal with Him AS FRIENDS. Friends would visit. They would visit over coffee and cheesecake. They would talk about writing or reading or the perfect pie crust. They would laugh and cry. They would get lost in the moment and not realize how late it had gotten. I want that for my life. I want that with Jesus.
So that’s one of my goals for this year, to spend more time visitin’ with God. And I know, in the process, my wounds will heal.