It's not your fault, Natasha...it's mine.

This morning, I put in Natasha Bedingfield's cd on the way to work. I didn't really want to listen to pop at 7:30am, but listening to Glen Phillips' new solo album for the 27th time in 3 days was feeling unbearable. (I became a little OCD after hearing him live with Toad the Wet Sprocket and the Verve Pipe last weekend. More details on that later.)

The first words out of Natasha's mouth were simple: "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you." What? Who do I love?? What in the world? How is this supposed to motivate me to go about my day?

The problem is that my Bible reading has gotten chucked out the window since I started leaving for work at 7:30am. My 12-week read-through-the-Bible has been stuck in Numbers for a month (and at the defense of Numbers, it isn't Numbers' fault. Numbers gets a bad rap--it's actually quite engaging. Seriously.) And now instead of filling myself with anything of substance, I'm hearing, "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you."

So, I was fighting that internal struggle where I know there's a right answer, and I just haven't had the will to make it happen. I ask myself, what if this were a worship song? What if I was singing this to the Lord? At that moment, I nearly burst out in tears, because I realized how overwhelmingly I've missed sitting in His presence and reading His word this month. It was overwhelming to think of Creator God choosing to spend time with me while I instead choose to drift away in fanciful daydreams or cheer for Benji on So You Think You Can Dance.

I realize that if I really sang Natasha's words passionately towards the Lord, I'd be saying, "These words are my own, from my heart flow, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. There's no way to better say I love you, I love you." It felt good to tell the Lord I loved Him, thanks to Natasha's words, but it also felt overwhelming. It felt like I suppose it would feel if your spouse or child disappeared for a month, and suddenly, after a month of not hearing from him or her, the phone rang, and you heard, "I love you." There would be grace and mercy there, I suppose, but there would also be that frustration and anger of, "Where have you been? Why have you left me? What are you DOING?"

So, I'm not really prodigal so much as 'easily distracted?' Maybe if you're easily distracted, you might as well run away. Is being distracted while still giving off the physical appearance of the walk and the talk worth anything anyways? Tonight, I'm going home to spend at least an hour in Numbers and Deuteronomy. I'm convinced this time will bring healing...it's been 6 weeks of distraction...and I have missed my time with the Lord.