My journey with God is a slow one. There is no rush, He’s got time and He is patient. He knows I am in no shape to run a marathon; that in fact, I am barely capable of walking. At times I stumble, sometimes I even fall down. Yet He is always there to help me back up and to steady me again. Just like a good Father. I imagine Him smiling softly at me, encouraging me to try again, even to go a few steps further today.
Other times I imagine He frowns a little and chides me when I’ve done something wrong and I need to know it. Sometimes I get it straight away and repent. And sometimes I am a slow learner, repeating my mistakes. It is in these times I imagine Him, my Father, to be very sad for His child, for me. Perhaps even angry, when He allows Himself to be so, or when He forgets, however briefly, that I am only human. But always, always He is there, waiting. Waiting for me to realize I have done wrong. Waiting for me to ask forgiveness. Again. Waiting to fold me into His arms and allow Him to love me again.
It is then, when this happens, that He is most happy. When His child returns to Him. No matter how often I may choose to turn away, no matter if I even am conscious of doing so. He is there, waiting, loving, caring, hoping. Always, patiently. I imagine He watches over me, smiling at times, shaking His head at others. All I have to do is to open my eyes and my heart, so that I can see Him. Open my ears, so that I may hear Him. For He speaks so softly at times. Barely a whisper. It is then I have to strain to listen. To learn to listen, to His faintest whisper. For His whispers are sometimes the loudest of all messages.
Then there are times when His voice just seems to thunder and I can barely stand to hear it. It is then that I must learn to hear. Sometimes He doesn’t utter a single word. Instead, He shows me His message. At times I am too blind to see it. Or I do not understand. Other times, I nod and say “Yes, Father, I understand”.
He knows me, better than I know myself. After all, He made me. I struggle to learn more about Him. Most times I just talk and He listens. He listens and just smiles or shakes His head sadly. Sometimes we just walk together in silence, comfortable to be near. But slowly. After all, I only just learned to walk. I’ve only just come crawling to Him, only to be helped up, steadied by Him and taught to walk. So I walk with Him. Slowly, for I am not yet in shape for that marathon. But that’s OK, because I have the best walking partner I could choose. I’m walking with God.