When silence permeates the walls of my house, I know something mischievous is lurking behind closed doors. In a few such moments, little man has found the food closet. In his desperation to partake of the forbidden cookies, he sneaks into the dark closet, closes the door behind him, and (in spite of his fear of the dark) crouches in the corner and silently munches. When caught cookie-handed, mouth full, and guilty, he's still quick to point the blame elsewhere, "My mouth did it, not me!"
What must our Father know when He hears our silence - our missed prayers, our closed Biblees, our absent meditations. Isn't our silence an immediate indication that we are not where we are supposed to be? that we are not doing what we should be doing? We know we're guilty. We know that He knows. How quickly do we come up with an excuse, or an accusation of fault on anyone else but ourselves.
I love my baby boy in spite of the frivolous errors of his ways. I reprimand, correct, and expect better of him, but I still adore that mischievous spirit and hope to train it to work for good. How much more so must God feel towards me?!
Great admonition, Babe.
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