Ode to a Patient God

"And don't you go insane? All six thousand years of us treating you this way. All this time. Does it make you tired? I can't believe you waited for me...like it was worth your while."

My Darling, My Christ. Patient beyond expressible words. And yet He waits for me. I don't know about you but I have a hard time wrapping my head around this uninhibited, unconditional love that He gives. He sits and watches as we get into our cars and hurry to our respective destinations. He gazes as we sip our coffee and read our emails. Oh the longing, oh the suffering He's endured. And we go through our day as if He never did a thing for us. How many days have I woken up and forgotten to say thank you. How many hours go by before I even notice Him peering over my shoulder, wondering how much longer I'll busy myself with nonsense. Here we are claiming to have more than religion. Claiming that our lives are ruled by a relationship and not routine. But here we are forgetting our significant other. Our Saviour. Our King. And there He sits--ever so patient. Ever so loving and merciful. His longing is immeasurable. We go a day without seeing or talking to our boyfriends and girlfriends and we feel like we lack fulfillment for that day. But we go days/weeks/months/years with no remorse...no regret. Because He'll still be there.

I'd hate to think of the amount of times I have crucified and recrucified Him. I cant bare the thought of being a part of the murder of my Love. My heart. It is with deep anguish that I write this. Because I am the first to say that I am guilty. But next time.... Next time He calls I'm gonna sing for Him. Next time He calls Im going to apologize and cry. Next time Im going to dance for Him, play for Him, run a mile for Him. Next time Im going to give it all.

 My heart hurts. It burns and aches with anguish at how long I myself have played the harlot. At how long we have pushed Him aside. At how long He waits. I can just imagine having scheduled a date. He shows up on time, dressed in His best. Beautiful as ever. And here I come...20 minutes...40 minutes...years late. He calls and calls, wondering where I am or how much longer Im going to be. And I don't even have the sense to prepare myself. I come to Him in my junk and in my rags. Filthy and unshowered. And He will lovingly gaze into my eyes and still tell me that I am His treasure. Even with all my mess. And to this day, I can't believe He waited for me.