Sitting in a worship service the other day listening to another uninspiring talk full of opinions and pop psych made me long for the days when preachers actually walked with Christ and spoke fondly of their relationship with Him. I miss Him, Christ that is. He has been beside me for so many years, and yet it seems that I have not fellowshipped with Him or with His followers in ages.
Where is the church? No, not that lifeless monument on the hillside built to fit a crowd, where is the church? The people that Christ died and gave his life for. The church, that was left on earth to spread the news of He who died. The church that is to care for, love, encourage, and support each other. Am I a part of the church? Evidently not. I am hurting more than I have hurt in my life. I am depressed and seeking anything to bring me out of this despair, yet no one knows or cares.
Have I ceased to pray. No. I have prayed more than ever, maybe more like plead and beg, but the answers do not seem to come. The other day I was working a job and took a break for lunch. I was alone and sitting and bowed my head and closed my eyes to pray...I suddenly felt like such an idiot. It felt as if Christ was saying, "hey, I'm right here, sitting across from you. Talk to Me." I looked up and had a conversation with the Lord, thanking Him for my family, my health, my work, and the ability to have a conversation with Him. It was so real. I think that is what He wants. Jesus wants me to treat Him like He is really there, otherwise it is ritual...another dead ritual.
I love you Father. I love you Jesus. Thank you for dying for me, paying the cost and conquering death.
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