Chance are you’ve been in my shoes.  Currently, I’m super-excited about a new item I have.  I have just been given a brand new, still-in-the-box, plastic-wrapped ESV Study Bible.  Wow.  I’m pumped!  It’s an awesome Bible purchase that I’ve kept pushing down my list because other needs have come up.  I mean, really, I have like 7 translations of Bible.  Another translation isn’t a need, but a deep deep want.  Realistically.  At any rate, my friend bought it for me as a gift for singing in her wedding (which is tomorrow). 

And I’m so pumped that I want to change devo night with my man to tonight and have another one tomorrow.  It is very exciting.  And I’m like this every time I get a new Bible.  I love to smell the crisp onion paper, run my fingers across the bumpy, leather cover, and feel the joy of having pages that no one else has ever turned.  It’s like experiencing a true piece of art for the first time.  All over again.

Yet, I take a step back and have a reality check.  This is exactly how I should feel every single time I have the slightest half minute to spend time in His word.  I should want to do nothing else with my free time besides spend time with God in His word.  This joy and excitement that I feel should always be within me. 

However, I am sinful.  Therefore, I allow other exciting things to take precedence over my time with God.   Not just time in His word, but time serving others, loving others, and participating in other activities through which I can grow closer to Him.

I choose television over reading His word–internet surfing over serving the hungry.  I decide to scrapbook instead of build a home for the homeless and somehow prefer to facebook chat with friends endlessly while neglecting relational conversation with my Savior.  I fail.

I can only thank God that I am saved and forgiven and granted as many chances as there are grains of sand on a beach or stars in the sky.  During the times I neglect God, He isn’t running away with His tail between His legs.  He’s near, patiently waiting for me to realize that, once again, I have been humanly.