Rambling thoughts for the day...

I'm terrible at blogging, I think. Most of my posts, well all really, are sporadic and disconnected from the last. There is no real order, no priority, mostly no point. Its just something I do if I happen to think about it. For the most part, I go about my daily life, to class, to work, to dinner, to bed, and I don't ever think about blogging. It's not that I don't enjoy it. It's not that I feel like I have something to say. Simply, it just slips my mind. One of those things that I just don't get around to.

Even as I write this "confession", I sense a parallel. Replace "blogging" with "prayer", and the truth remains. My real confession is my lack of real conversation, not with the internet, not with anyone who may read this, but with my Father. Prayer is one of those things I tend to sweep under the rug. And with absence, it becomes easier and easier to forget. That is not to say that forgetting it is not my fault, of course it is. But I imagine it similar to conversation with an old friend who has moved away. Certainly God has not moved, that's not my point at all. Rather, its me who has created the distance, left His presence. And just like that friend I fail to call daily, then weekly, then only on holidays, then not at all, I talk with my Father if not daily, then not weekly, then when I need something, then nearly not at all.

In absence, I miss that friend. I can't know what he thinks, how he feels, how he needs me to be there if we don't talk. When I think of him and the friendship we built, I mourn the loss. I wonder what it would take to bring it back, if in fact we could ever return to where we were. I wonder if he has moved on and pushed my memory back as well.

In absence from God's presence, my questions are the same. I feel an emptiness, a loneliness, a disconnect. The questions are the same. I mourn the lost conversation, my failings, and I wonder if He has forgotten me as well. I feel a bit prodigal. But then as quickly as I ask, He answers. The answer is "no, I'm still here". Should this make me feel better? Probably. But I don't. Instead I realize that my Father has feelings, too. I've been hurting as I push Him from my mind. How much more does He hurt as I remain at the front of His?