Arm’s Length

When I was younger, I hated getting kisses from my grandparents. They were wet and sloppy on my cheek and my arm would instantly wipe away any residue left from saliva or lipstick. I began to push my arms out, trying to keep them back. Soon, it became apparent I didn’t enjoy getting a kiss when receiving a hello or goodbye hug.

I have a habit of pushing God back, trying to keep him at an arm’s distance. I don’t know why I do this. I could easily blame other Christians, disgusted with the faults they show that I don’t want to be associated with. But this wouldn’t be fair or true. I don’t know why I do this, but it has been a constant in my life over the past few years. I buy into the lie that life will be better, easier. I listen to the same voice that tempted Adam and Eve: God doesn’t know better than me.

And that is just what it is: a lie.

God has been faithful, though. Unlike my parents and grandparents, God never succumbed to my outstretched, blocking arms. Instead, He has gracefully stood by waiting, hoping, calling me back to His embrace. Some days, He is quieter and gentler while attempting not to cause me pain, to startle me, or to cause me to run further away. Other days, He sees me catch a glimpse and calls out loudly, ready to run across the room like long-lost friends.

No matter what, He continues calling, hoping, and waiting.

The calls have gotten progressively louder recently. I am finding I am happier and more driven when seeking God and remembering His embrace. I understand more and see clearer as I continue soaking in His truth. I have been more at peace, and I have been able to find more comfort in my fears and insecurities as I continue to search out God and find my path in this life.

God is infinitely patient and faithfully, gracefully waiting as we run and hold Him back at an arm’s distance. Will I continue allowing God to bring me into His embrace? Only time will tell, but I hope so.