It took me until the other day to realize that I have been ignoring God for . . . probably since the high wore off after getting back from working at camp or something.

There are times when my longing to know more and to dig deeper through worship are intense. And then the series of those moments end.  I slip back into my life, my routine and my apathy. These moments grow further and farther between.  I tried to pray last night . . . and I couldn’t remember the last time I prayed.  And by tried to, I mean that I can’t even remember if I got to amen. The youth retreat had me ignited in worship; shaking as I opened up Psalms and found a verse that encapsulated my journey with God perfectly.

And yet, through all of that, through this whole journey that cannot be an accident, through all of the things I am thankful for, I am ignoring God and am apathetic about this. I am stuck. I am here, in this space, with all I have, and not reaching towards what I need.  I have no doubts in this: I need God.

The fact that I am even writing this leads me to believe I am reaching for more. That I want more than this at this current moment–that I want to be deeper with God.  The other part of me though? It continues to resist, to push away, to try to hide.  The other part of me: the remnants of my fourteen-year-old self.  The girl who thinks she can go it alone, yet at the same time knows deep down that she can’t.  The girl whose heart is only beating because of God but she hasn’t yet fully come to terms with that.  Still.  After six years.  Because in all these years, I am distant more than I am close. I take for granted my own story–God’s story.

And I don’t know what to do or where to go. I only know where I am; and some days that isn’t so clear either.  I am not my own.

Yet I cannot relinquish that control.  Cannot submit fully.  Cannot reach forward even though I know His arms are open.  Cannot move.

. . . And cannot understand it.

and i live just around here
and i sleep just around here
and i wake up every day
and my feet hit the floor 
in exactly the same place
[…]
and i wake up every day
with poison in my head
behind exactly the same face
[…]
and tell me will i stay
with my feet in exactly the same place?

empty’s theme park, matthew good