Snack: A nibble here or there of granola bar, bites of this or that, enough to eat and run.
Dear Jesus,
Do I feast on you like a satisfying meal giving me strength and satiety?
or
Do I take nibbles of your Word, sips of prayer and crumbs of attentiveness to your Spirit?
If I were to encounter You lakeside on a beautiful sunny day like today, would my attention to you be divided and distracted? Could you count on me to pour liquid gold (my time and adoration) at your feet and not be worried over treasure lost?
ok, ok. maybe for a day or two i would rise early, stay in the hot sun, hang on your words and fall in love with you.
but love can fade if not tended on a normal basis. i don't mean a familial kind of love where once you are blood when you always "love" someone no matter the distance or detachment. i mean the verb love. the one that is active and alive.
i would (as i now do) fall into the reliability and predictability of life. the day-to-day grind. my feet would dance in the same two-step pattern they had taken the previous 24 hours.
The answers hurt because the truth of the matter is that my months, days, and hours are spent scurrying to and fro. Not staying, not lingering. But instead, nibbling your Gospel as if peanuts can fill this ravenous whole of myself. Your love, your sacrifice is food to be devoured like a burger to a starving beggar. Because, after all, that is what I am.
"Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day." John 6:54
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