Usually, my morning prayer time consists of scripture reading and journaling. Sometimes the Lord has so much to say about one verse or one story that I will spend a couple of days writing about it. This happened the other day while reading the story in Matthew 14 where Jesus walks on water.
Each morning that I read and reread this gospel, there was still more to write about. So I continued the next day. And the next day. Until one day, a busy morning got the best of me and I didn’t read. Or write. I told myself there just wasn’t time. I even tried to convince myself there probably wasn’t anything more He wanted to say about that story since I had written about it for so many days. But there was a kind of guilty nagging on my heart all day long. I knew deep down I was supposed to sit with him that morning and I didn’t. I stood Him up.
That evening after dinner I vowed I would sit down and get back to the gospel. At least for a couple of minutes. But then my 7-year-old asked if we could snuggle and read. Of course, I said yes. But that feeling was still on my heart. “I’m sorry, Lord,” I told him. “I should have done it this morning.” I sat down in the recliner and Eva came out of her room with the story she wanted to read. She handed me her children’s Bible opened it to the story where Jesus walks on water.
Ironically, it was this children’s version that I think God wanted me to read because it was this “translation” that spoke volumes to me once again.
I guess it just goes to show that no matter how we fail him, no matter how we “diss” Him, He still loves us. He is still eager to shower blessings upon us and make a way for us to return.