Lately I’ve been feeling unsteady, like I’m coming unmoored, drifting alone in a sea of stormy waves. I find myself reaching for Peter in the middle of the night, grasping his shirt, and it somehow steadies me a little. Other times just holding on to his pillow is enough to make me feel safe.
I’m not usually a needy person. I don’t overly stress out about things. I worry just the same as everyone, but I don’t consider myself a “worrier.”
Lately, though, deep in my subconscious, I’ve been feeling some sort of fear. An instability . A longing to connect.
Last night, as I awoke again, reaching for Peter to make sure he was there, I realized why I was feeling so disconnected.
Our family has been through many changes over the past several weeks. And because of these changes, I’ve been neglecting my time spent with Jesus.
Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’ve spent time in the Bible and I’ve been working through a Bible study.
But I haven’t really spent time with Jesus.
I’ve done my lessons every day. I’ve read all the scripture and answered all the questions.
But I haven’t spent time with Jesus.
I haven’t gone to Him with my hurts and fears. I haven’t cried and pleaded to the Father for my friends who are hurting. I haven’t been still long enough to hear His voice.
And I miss Him.
So last night as I woke up feeling unsteady once again in the quiet of those too early morning hours, I prayed. I asked the Lord to forgive me for moving away from Him. I asked Him to draw me closer to Him. I pleaded for my kids – that they would find godly friends in their new town. I prayed for Him to strengthen my marriage, making it stronger than ever.
And I felt relief. I felt Jesus draw me to Him. I felt His love. I felt Him speak to my spirit, saying, “My child, I never left you.”