Lysosome

My days are all wonky. I started a five-day working stint on Friday and rolled out bed this morning thinking, "Wow! Thursday already!"

Nope.

When not slaving through an online biology class and Victor Hugo (I quit reading Les Miserables with only one hundred pages to go, so I'm reading the whole thing over again before I see the new movie, which, by this movie snob's standards, actually looks pretty good, I'm reading The Power of an Ordinary Life by Harvey Hook. It's been sitting on my shelf for three years, and I've never read it all the way through. (I have a problem with starting books and forgetting about them.) As I was reading last night, it dawned on me that I have a skewed perspective of God. Hook wrote a poem, supposedly what God was saying to him, and one part said, "Be still. I love you." I've grown up in church (not Sunday school, though - never have I ever been to Sunday school), so I've heard my entire life, "For God so loved the world," "the love of God," "the love that God has for us." But I've never thought of it as actual love. I've never considered it the flippant "love you" I shout to my family on my way out the door. (That's wrong, the love isn't flippant, just the way I say it.) But I've always pictured God as the benevolent ruler to be respected and honored, not the Father who runs down the driveway to throw His arms around me and say, "Oh, my child, I love you so much!"

When I think of Him that way, I don't feel the rush of joy and pride, that "yeah, I'm loved by God, that's pretty awesome" feeling. Instead I fall to my knees and hide my face with my hands. "My Lord, my Lord," I can't help sobbing, almost in pain under the weight of His affection, "I'm the last person, alive or dead, who deserves Your love. I'm completely unworthy, there's someone else that has earned it and lives in such a way that merits Your favor."

So often I forget that He doesn't leave me on the ground. He pulls me up, puts His hands on my shoulders, and whispers, "I know. But I'm giving it to you anyway."

Just an example of the things I think about when I'm exhausted and should really be studying biology instead of writing.

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Premonition - that feeling you get when you put on a pair of underwear and say, "These are going to give me problems all day" and still walk out of the house wearing them.