Yesterday I had the privilege of spending a special evening with Jesus. I invited one of my dear friends to come along, too, and so she and I went to the beach and talked with Him. Substitute a lace-covered table for a sandy old log, napkins for journals (who doesn’t write on those white things anyway?) and Italian for the Scriptures…mmm…yeah, it was good. The sound of waves colliding against the shore was better than any romantic CD, and the setting sun made for an awesome ambience.
I took my journal with me, intending to write. I brought along my Bible, intending to read. Yet I realized that last night I just wanted to talk to God. I wanted to feel small and insignificant next to the water, and be reminded that I personally am not all that matters in this world. I matter to God, yes, but my life is not too complicated for Him to understand, and my problems are not too great for Him.
(That is one thing I’ve been learning…how sometimes I tend to dwell on a troubled thought long enough and make it seem “too big” for God to handle. It’s almost as if I mentally magnify the problem, and try to feel dejectedly satisfied that my problem is TOO BIG for God. In doing so, I resolve that He’s not big enough for me…which means I’m too big for Him. How’s that for feeling self-important? Wow.)
Anyhow, it was a wonderful evening spent in the presence of a fantastic Savior. He’s still working on me, but He sure knows how to set up a good date…
(Oh, and in case you were wondering, and my friend will vouch for me…our evening did end with ice cream. One of those divine little perks. :D)