my problem

I have a serious problem. With God, and because of Him.

When I was a kid, I thought God saw me like His personal podcast or youtube channel. I thought He saw everyone like that: He saw all of us, each at our own time and wherever He’d placed us. If He was looking for something cool and funny, He’d flip over to the Anne Lamott Station. Or if it was a rough day and He needed to unplug a bit, He’d catch a little Jeff Dunham.  And I’d imagine He had the Big Bang on TiVo, just watching it on loop.

He knows us, created us, so He could skip the commercials and the in-between parts. If He knew I was going to mess up (and you know, He’s God, so…), He could just pause, catch a little Katt Williams, and come back to me later. He’d catch my show later, totally be there for me… just after He had a little space, a little God-time to prepare.

But here’s what I realized is an issue with living my life with that idea in my head: I can cheat. A lot.

If God’s not watching because I’m not as funny as Mr. Williams, or as entertaining as Ms. Lamott and her M&M fascination, then I can totally slide. Maybe it’s not obvious, maybe it doesn’t really look like that.  Maybe it just looks like I have Ooo-Bright-Shiny (OBS) syndrome.

And maybe He can catch up on my issues and episodes, but it’s not the same.

If I live my life like that (which I can since God does), I’m constantly waiting for the moment God hits the play button again. My life is on inconsistent pause; I’m being a lifetime slacker.

It’s ok, I tell myself, to not write down that idea. It’ll come back later, when God hits the play button again. I don’t really have to make the effort to do something I know I should. It can be caught the next go-round.

Except I only get one go-round. And God doesn’t use a pause button.

So now I’m back to being 34 and just now realizing that I slack when I should lean; I question when I should keep walking.

I fear when I should trust.

And that’s the serious problem. I’m far more Ok with the idea that God gets as bored and irritated by me as I do with Him rather than actually accepting He loves me.

In my darkest, most selfish places, I want God to be as shallow and inconsistent as I am. And I don’t know what to do when I find out yet again that He’s not.

Except to pause everything else and apologize. Then do something different.

And admit, I have a problem – with God and because of Him.