I don't often publish my meditations. This one felt heavy in my heart today, though, so maybe it's time to share it. Perhaps someone else out there is on the cusp of confession and just needs one more puzzle piece of encouragement.
Father, I am sorry. Sorry for putting other things first, even this morning. Sorry for not loving you with my heart and soul and mind and strength. Sorry for loving other things more than the one who gave his life for me. Sorry for finding greater joy and greater satisfaction in gifts more than the giver. Sorry for taking to heart and mind the accolades of mankind. Sorry for judging your created ones. Sorry for putting my needs above the needs of others.
Create in me a new spirit. Burn within me the way you used to. Be what my soul craves in the morning and at night. Help me to fall in love with you again, to be moved to tears just thinking of you. Help me to desire you above all things.
I used to love you like that. I used to run to you so often during the day. I used to spend hours talking with you. I used to laugh with you, too -- how can I describe the sound of holy joy escaping from my mouth? I felt completely satisfied in those moments with you. I threw myself on your immovable rock and never had a desire to move.
Help me find you again. In all this work, in all this great harvest, in being set apart from an ordinary life, I am scared to think of what I could become if I forget you or grow cold to your voice. I don't want to heal from the wounds you carve. They keep me alive in the Son and dependent only on the balm of his presence.
