So Glad You Said That

Today was the day my routine was starting up again. It was 6:30 in the morning and my husband was heading to work for the first time in 11 days.

6:30 shouldn’t be too early for me, but it was.

I told him the night before I would need some gentle coaxing to get up, but even a coffee delivered to the nightstand wasn’t doing it. As my alarm snoozed on and off, I was doing one of my sneakier tricks: “praying” in bed as an excuse to not get up. Morning Me likes to view this as an appetizer to actually getting up and reading the Bible and getting some movement in (my ideal routine), but in reality, this is just a way for me to sneak a few more minutes of sleep and not feel like a total failure.

So today is the day my routine starts again – for a few days that is – until New Year’s and this weird funky holiday warp flips us on our heads once more.

As I lay in bed, doing my appetizer prayer/stalling tactic, I felt a daunting sense of distance from God.

December was clumsy. While I went in with the best intentions to not feel like this at the end of it, I still do. Undisciplined, tired, too much sugar, scrolling, and stress.

Throughout the entire month, I had also been working through some significant medication changes that have affected my body and mind in really difficult ways- “An UnMedicated Christmas” is a screenplay Hallmark would likely shoot down.

The last week, in particular, had been rough. My body felt wrecked, and when your body feels wrecked, it’s hard to not allow your mind to follow. I spent a lot of Christmas Day curled up in bed facing awful physical symptoms and a sense of sadness and disappointment to be missing the day.

My prayer life was abysmal this month. My time in the Word, though it still happened, felt forced and like another thing to check off. I didn’t slow down and enjoy the season like I wanted. I stressed and rushed.

I felt clumsy and embarrassed, another stretch of not hitting my spiritual goals and getting stressed out about all the things I said I wouldn’t anymore.

I felt so stuck. Like this huge gap between the Lord and me.

The perceived gap was keeping me in shame as it felt pointless to even start this routine again.

The gap felt like I needed to work super hard to prove my loyalty and commitment to the Lord so He would come near and find me worth coming near to.

The gap felt like mine to close.

But I was too tired. My brain had been through it the past week- quite literally spinning around to the point of barely functioning as it tried to recalibrate.

But then the words “please close the gap,” kept coming to me as I lay in bed.

“God please close the gap.”

With a little shame, for being here yet again, I ask Him to draw near.

And I remember something really beautiful:

He is delighted to do the heavy lifting, the closing, as I lift up my tired body to Him and ask for Him to come near. James 4:8 says “Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.”

But that doesn’t mean he is behind the finish line of a race, waiting for us to prove ourselves with a PR just to get to Him. He is not hiding himself, waiting for us to muster up our own strength and will to just be close. He is not eluding us in a chase as we exhaust ourselves pursuing Him – just missing Him.

My drawing near was a plea at 6:30 am, procrastinating getting up, that I needed Him to make the move, and close the gap.

It was a heart that desired Him, even when I felt shame for not “doing more” spiritually over the advent season.

The Christmas Story, starting in a manger and ending on a Roman Cross, is the ultimate example of God closing the gap. He has made the first move to us through sending His Son to us. Jesus went to that manger, and ultimately to that cross as a sacrifice for our sins, taking on all our shame as His own, to reconcile us to God.

Whatever you think you need to prove first ; finally conquering the sin you can’t shake, the morning Bible routine you can’t quite commit to, the breaking of a phone addiction, peace in a relationship – don’t wait. He has already closed the gap. Ask Him to draw near. You have nothing to prove.

It was a gentle reminder this morning that I didn’t need to do anything before offering myself to Him. There was nothing to prove.

So on the last day of this year, if there is any piece of you that desires closeness with God but feels too messy or undisciplined or broken, I want to remind you of that, too. Jesus’s gentle invitation is too good to refuse.

⁸ “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. ²⁹ Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. ³⁰ For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30