My full and open honesty to Him is often a painful thing.  Seeking out, and facing, all my empty 'Christianized' masks and motives, cranked-out words, token prayers, and bargain-basement obedience that I call "my Christian walk".  Oh, how predictable it has become.  So filled with memorized forms and formulas.  So empty of lasting fruit and substance.  It even bores me at times.  What does it do to Him?

So often so much of what I call my love for Him is little more than casual infatuation.  It rarely costs very much.

I seek His priceless blessings and revival with dime-store prayers and cut-rate commitment that costs nothing, changes nothing, and isn't worth a penny more.  Seeking a costless revival where repentance is a sinner's duty.  Surely not mine, Lord.  Surely not mine.

My love for Him is a . . .

My full and open honesty to Him is often a painful thing.  Seeking out, and facing, all my empty 'Christianized' masks and motives, cranked-out words, token prayers, and bargain-basement obedience that I call "my Christian walk".  Oh, how predictable it has become.  So filled with memorized forms and formulas.  So empty of lasting fruit and substance.  It even bores me at times.  What does it do to Him?

So often so much of what I call my love for Him is little more than casual infatuation.  It rarely costs very much.

I seek His priceless blessings and revival with dime-store prayers and cut-rate commitment that costs nothing, changes nothing, and isn't worth a penny more. Seeking a costless revival where repentance is a sinner's duty.  Surely not mine, Lord.  Surely not mine.

My love for Him is a selective thing.  A picking and choosing of what I shall do and what I shall not.  What I shall give Him and what I shall withhold. This oh so casual and comfortable thing I call "loving Him".

Yet, He calls such "love" no love at all.  My lukewarm selective obedience betrays my words and makes my love a lie.

If today I stood before Him, as I shall on that day of days, all my well rehearsed auditorium "love" for an auditorium "Lord" won't impress Him.  My half-hearted subjection and token obedience won't do.

How can He pour through me when I am yet so full of myself?  Presuming, if it satisfies me, it satisfies Him?

Do I Love Him?

My answer words come so easily.  They roll right off my tongue.  Surely thou knowest that I love thee, Lord."

Then why is He asking again?

Dennis Wood, Copyright 2005

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