I Can Still Feel Him
Can I tell you how enraptured I am right now? How in awe I am of everything?
If you’ve already stopped reading, I don’t blame you. I get burned out on the overtly saccharine writings that seem to pop up all over the place. When you can hardly keep your head above water, people on the shore just remind you that you’re not there.
If you know my story, you know that I’m my harshest critic. I’ve lead a failry clean life. I’ve not dabbled in drugs, slept around, or gotten in trouble. My demons are not sex or alcohol or greed, but as my friend Seth Haines says, “I suppose we are all drunk on something.” (If you haven’t read Seth’s life-chaning book Coming Clean, stop reading this and go read that instead. It will mean much more to you, and you’ll be glad you did. I’ll assume you’re reading his book now, and will come back to this when you’re done.
You’re back. Wasn’t Seth’s book fantastic? I’ve read it twice now, and it gets better every time, and it’s hit me in the gut every time. Like I said, we’re all drunk on something.
My bottle of gin is being good enough. Earning God’s love. Believing that what I say/do/think in my worst moments define who I am. I don’t read my bible enough. I don’t pray enough. I don’t volunteer enough. I’m short with my wife and yell at my kids.
But can I tell you something? I feel it.
I feel an awakening of the rapturous love of Jesus in my soul. Like the faintest glimmer of light before the dawn, I can feel the pursuing heart of the creator whispering to the deepest parts of me.
“You are enough.”
“You are worth love, and you don’t have to earn it.”
This may seem inconsequential to some, but to my doubting, skeptic soul, these words are medicine. Cool Aloe on a blistering sunburn. Soaking your feet after a long day.
More than anything, I feel relief.
Relief that HE is still there. He is still good. He is still worth pursuing with the same ferocity with which He pursues me.
He is still there.
He has always been here.
He will always be here.