I wish I heard from my children more often. They are all grown and gone and I miss them! I love the stage of life I’m in, and I’ve grown to appreciate the empty nest, but I still miss them. I can do so many personal projects I didn’t have time for when all my children were home, but today I’m wishing for my children’s presence—to hear their voices, to laugh with them, to hear a word of appreciation, to spend time with them.
Suddenly, in the midst of my wishing I thought, “Have I spent time with my Heavenly Parents today or expressed my appreciation to them? Isn’t it possible that, just as I yearn for my children, God yearns to hear my voice in prayer, to be invited into my presence, to spend time?
I remember a quote that impressed me in a book called A New Song, by Jan Karon. The main character, Father Tim, was giving a sermon, and his words really called to my heart. He said,
“In the storms of your life, do you long for the consolation of His nearness and His friendship? You can’t imagine how He longs for the consolation of yours. It is unimaginable, isn’t it, that He would want to be near us—frail as we are, weak as we are, and hopeless as we so often feel. God wants to be with us. That, in fact, is His name; Immanuel, God with us. . .”
I realize that His presence is the only presence that truly fills the hole in my soul. This same character, Father Tim, says that each of us has a God-shaped hole in our soul that nothing and no-one but Him can fill. He says that we yearn to have Him with us, yet we are inclined to spend all our time trying to fill the hole with other things that never satisfy.
Father Tim suggests that our unfilled craving inside is “to be with Him day after day, telling Him everything, letting it all hang out, just thankful to have such a blessing in your life as a friend who will never, under any circumstances leave you, and never remove His love from you. Amazing? Yes, it is. It is amazing.” (Jan Karon A New Song, p. 394)
Today I’m going to spend time with the Lord, who is my dearest friend. Are you?
by Darla Isackson