invitation to a changed life
asleep
Waiting to be kissed awake by Jesus. Wondering why it sometimes feels so wrong here. We were made for heaven, made for communion with God. Not made for mortality and sin, disease of heart, body and mind. Sleepwalking, realizing this isn't the big show. A dream, maybe. A prelude, most definitely. Who am I that He calls me His own. His child. The God of the universe, the benevolent creator of all that is good and holy, He who demands holiness, me a sinner who cannot stop. A match only perfected in Heaven. I reach out but I can't quite make it. Jesus bridges the gap that widens with my flaws. Abba Father never stops reaching, He never moves, He is constant. I move, I am fallible and flighty. But I want to come back, I want to be awake, but when it really matters, when I must be in the garden awake, praying, I sleep. I am always asleep. Wake me, O God. Wake me up.
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