Crave God

This is what happens when your flash goes off in the middle of the night in your baby’s face.

My midnight sidekick hasn’t quite mastered sleeping. Actually she isn’t even an apprentice sleeper yet so I make the most of it.

When the middle of the night cries come, nothing soothes her. It’s not a dirty diaper. She doesn’t want a pacifier. She doesn’t want to rock. She doesn’t want Daddy.

She has one unsubstitutionary craving.  She wants to nurse.

I image Hannibal Lecter nursed a little like this child. She is ferocious.

Then as her tummy fills and the oxytocin kicks in, she relaxes. She sighs. All is well. She sleeps.

As I do this same routine with her over and over again I hear God saying, “Crave me.”

But I am too tired to pray tonight.

Crave me.

But I just need time to veg out.

Crave me.

I still have laundry and dishes to do.

Crave me. 

In the midst of my often chaotic life I hear “Crave God.” No matter the excuse or distraction that I come up with the answer is still “Crave God.”

Don’t minimize God. Don’t just obey God. Crave God.