Fifty Years

I did the math and was surprised to see that it's been fifty years. I can remember so vividly the afternoon that I told my mother I wanted to have more faith. She didn't even hesitate, she simply told me that if I wanted to have more faith I could find it by reading God's word.

The next morning at 5 a.m. my mother came quietly into my room without even turning on a light. She whispered into my ear,"If you want to have more faith, get up." Then she tiptoed out. My eyes opened and the battle began. My first prayer of the morning was, "God, help me! My spirit is willing but my flesh is weak!" Finally, after praying that prayer several times, I rolled onto the floor and crawled out of my room.

One thing I know for sure, I would have never gotten out of bed that morning if God hadn't answered the desperate prayer of a sleepy thirteen year old girl. But there is another thing I've learned after fifty years of reading through the Bible. It's God who initiates a relationship. In the Old Testament I read, "For the eyes of the LORD range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him" (2 Chronicles 16:9). In the New Testament I read that the Father is seeking those who will worship Him in spirit and in truth.

I confess that over the last fifty years there have been seasons where is was more difficult to respond to God's invitation to know Him than others. When my children were babies and sleep was rare, sometimes I would hold onto a verse. A verse was all my tired brain could grasp. But even a verse when it is lit by God's glory can illumine the darkness.

You would think that reading the same book over and over for fifty years would get old, but it's just the opposite. Every morning I find myself waking with a sense of anticipation. I open God's word and feed my soul and spirit with bread from heaven. I quench my thirst with living water. He wakes me morning by morning and opens my ear like one who is being taught.

I have been wanting to share this ever since I realized that it's been fifty years since that first morning I crawled out of my bedroom begging God to help me. God does the pursuing, but we have the choice to respond to Him or not. I am so grateful that He not only gave me the desire for more faith but also heard my cry for help. He understood that my spirit was willing and that my flesh was weak.