One hundred eight days…

My husband was away at a men’s retreat with our church last weekend.  I miss him when he’s gone.  Twenty one years of marriage, and I still miss him when he’s away.  I was able to speak with him for a few minutes on the phone the other night before bed.  I love the sound of his voice.  When we talk on the phone, I am reminiscent of younger days.  I probably feel this way because when we were growing up we were on the phone so often that we were constantly in trouble for all the toll calls charged to our parents.  Those were the dinosaur days, a time before cell phones and unlimited plans.  After we said goodnight, I snuggled into my bed and began to pray.  I could not stop thinking that in the same way we miss our loved ones when they are away, God must ache for us when we don’t invest in a relationship with Him.  He wants to hear our first good morning and to own our last goodnight.  He wants us to share our hearts and souls with Him through prayer.

Can you imagine how many of the children He created neglect to speak with Him every single day?  Is it even possible for us to comprehend how He must long for the sound of their voices?  There is no comprehending how the God of the universe must feel when His own creation is absent of fellowship with Him.

So far, throughout this blog, I’ve spoken several times about prayer.  How can God heal our pain when we refuse to reach out to Him?

When was the last time you used your voice to cry out to God?

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