“It involves a lot of swearing.”
This was my answer to my friend asking me how one showers with two broken appendages. It’s been five days since a biking accident left me quarantined to my bed, fully dependent on others, and on a roller coaster ride of emotions.
Monday, I was grateful and happy. My family was concerned and showered me with love and attention. Tuesday I cried because simply brushing my teeth and changing pajamas was exhausting and took forever. Wednesday, my mood devolved into anger and cursing, and by Thursday, I had the urge multiple times to throw something.
Simultaneously (and ironically), it’s been difficult to read my Bible. I’m more tired and ADD-ish than usual. I tried keeping up on my Bible reading plan but didn’t.
This morning I read Jeremiah. I read names I couldn’t pronounce, about carnage I didn’t understand, and about the always disobedient Israelites. And although nothing in Jeremiah overtly spoke to my highly inconvenient life in a walker, when I got done reading I had a little more peace and a little less rage.
Because simply communing with God has a way of doing that. Although part of me wants direct answers, comforts, and epiphanies when I read Scripture, I was reminded today that reading the Bible to get something from Christ doesn’t constitute a relationship with Him. I don’t spend time with my husband to get something from him, after all. I just enjoy being with him.
Spending time with the Lord this morning reminded me of the joy of just being with God. It reminded me He doesn’t love me more when I’m reading my Bible or failing to, praying or profaning, confessing or crying. It reminded me a relationship with Christ is sweet and satisfying, not because He gives me things,
but because He’s already given me everything I need.