back into my life.

I was doing some thinking last night, as I lay in bed nursing Ayla and listening to the sounds of my wonderful family.  I was thanking God for all that He has blessed me with, but I realized I must do more.  I am a Christian, I was saved many many years ago, but I fear I’ve let God get a little away from me. 

Which is sad, because He’s never forgotten me, nor has He ever left my side.  I just think I haven’t been giving Him the attention He deserves.

I don’t like organized religion at all, some personal experiences when I was younger have made that venue impossible.  I just won’t get up early on a Sunday morning, dress in fancy clothing only worn then, and attend a meeting with others, some of whom are just as tired and just as unwilling to be there as I am.  Yeah, I know the majority are willing participants, and that’s fine.  It’s just not for me.  I don’t believe for one millisecond that I have to show up in a building once (or more) a week to prove how much He means to me, to prove my dedication to Him.  My husband was raised Catholic, but he too doesn’t care for organized religion, probably not to the extent that I do, but I’m a good excuse for him to sleep in on Sundays. So that’s a non-issue. 

But I do find myself thanking Him more and more and more each and every week, and I think that’s a clear sign that I’ve been missing something in my life.  For the past couple of years, I’ve noticed that I’ve let some irritation and anger or even hatred and bigotry seep into my heart at rare times, and I think that’s a warning that He’s not filling the spaces that He should be.  I’ve never been one to direct hate at anyone.  I’ve never felt the ugly emotion of jealousy or bigotry. I rarely even get stressed.  But I find I can’t drive down the street without feeling anger at a fellow driver.  Or I can’t shop in a store without getting irritated at another person.   These are a few examples, there are many more.

I never get angry at my own children, however.  I mean, angry beyond a “normal parenting” angry.  That would be crossing a line, and I would have asked for professional help long before now if that was the case.  My children are my life, and I know that is a huge gift from God.

I know now that I really need to take that negative energy and turn it around.  I need to pray more often.  I need to revisit the Bible.  I need to let Him tell me what He needs me to do for Him.  I need to forgive those who have black hearts, they just don’t know better.  I need not pity others for their choices, their actions, I need to help them see the way.   I need to invite God into our home, to the children.  The boys are familiar with the concepts, but not the details.  Brett and I were talking the other day about the Rapture, and he didn’t know what “saved” meant.  I need to sit with Brett and help him invite God into his heart too.  I need to speak with Justus to see if he’s mature enough to understand.  I need to teach the girls to pray.  I need to get God back.

I know I am so blessed.  I do not take it for granted, not for a minute.  I know God was watching me when he gave me four perfect, healthy children.  When he gave me a loving, devoted husband.  When he gave us all the means to serve Him.  I need to recapture the peace, the love, the hope, the serenity of having God lead the way for our entire family, and I’m getting excited at the prospect.

Last night, I caught a moment of the Oscars, when the producer or director (I’m so sorry, I don’t know who) of Slumdog Millionaire was accepting an award.  He said some words that stuck with me - “When you get up in the morning, you can choose to hate or to love.  I choose to love”.  These are my new words to live by.