delight (1)

Miss Slowpoke and My Prayer for 2015

Yesterday at the grocery store, the woman in front of me was taking a very long time to check out. I looked for a shorter line, but you know how it goes—the longer you’re in one line, the more committed you feel to riding it out. So I did.

Then I got nosy. Why was she taking such a long time? I leaned in while trying to act undercover, and then I realized what the holdup was. Miss Slowpoke was choosing which items to take off her bill. She had gone over her budget.

So methodically she picked up each item, inspected it, and pronounced her judgment:

“Canned mushrooms – Keep”
“Electronic toothbrush – Go”
“Mozzarella cheese – Keep”
“Mustache wax – Go”

And so forth. It was painful. But it got me thinking about God, specifically delighting in God in 2015.

One of my prayers for the New Year is, “God, become my chief delight.” I’m praying this because right now, he’s not. But I’d like him to be.

The Bible says:

“My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the LORD, my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God” (Psalm 84:2)

“As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.” (Psalm 42:1-2)


When I read verses like these, I feel disconnected from their sentiments. Sure, I’d like to say they describe me, but in truth, they don’t. No, my soul does not pant for God or thirst for him. It doesn’t yearn, it doesn’t faint, my flesh does not cry out for the living God.

Most of the time I just want to watch TV.

And I’m in good company. A 2014 Barna survey revealed that practicing Protestants watch an average of 3.1 hours per day and practicing Catholics watch 3.5 hours per day. PER DAY! EVERY SINGLE DAY! That’s a lot of time.

But our time is driven by our delight. We do what we desire. Which brings me back to Miss Slowpoke. Today there are so many options for picking and choosing our delights. So many gems catch our fancy, we’ve never had so many options in life—television, tweeting, gaming, taxidermy. But there can only be one chief delight.

Perhaps God hasn’t become that because I haven’t let him. I haven’t turned my time over to him, haven’t waited on him, haven’t stoked my desire for him. Perhaps my view of God is too limited because I don’t expect him to become my heart’s true desire.

So God, become my chief delight. (And may he become yours, and even you, Miss Slowpoke.)


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