Monday, September 15, 2008

Catching Detouritis

I'm afflicted with a weakness called "detouritis." It comes on me whenever I head for the closet—the prayer closet. I sincerely want to meet God, but I grope and stumble. Something happens to me on the way to pray.

I sense an invisible but very real enemy who lurks around dark corners carrying a suitcase full of masks and disguises. The tag on his suitcase spells out "Wiles." That's not his name—that’s a description of the contents. It's full of tricks and strategies meant to fool, trap, and entice me. The devil is a master of crafty and beguiling behavior. He designed his cunning activities to lure me away from time alone with God. Chicanery and fraud are involved. I don't consider myself naive, so why am I such a willing victim of the Deceiver?

He is downright devilish. I don't think I’m important enough for him to give me his infernal personal attention, but it's obvious that Satan has trained his underling minor devils well. They seem to know me inside out. In my own strength, I'm no match for the Deceiver or his crew. Of course I know what he's up to, but sadly, I still fall for the same old tricks.

In the morning, the Deceiver seems to gently rock my bed like a cradle. Perhaps it's a flashback to my infant days, but I never fail to doze off again (or get dizzy) even after I've had a full night's sleep. He succeeds in convincing me I’d be sleep deprived if I didn’t get a few more winks.

He lullabies me by crooning, "You don’t have to get up yet. Just a few more minutes are good for you." So I’m compelled to roll over, pull the covers up, and before I know it the sun is streaming through the window. No time to pray this morning. Now I must rush!

At night, the Deceiver uses a sandman disguise. If he has kept me from reading the Bible and praying in the morning, he thrusts me into phase two. He let's me believe that I'll still have time to read the Bible and pray late at night. When I try, he places tiny lead weights on my eyelids, and they begin to droop. I try unsuccessfully to rub the sand out of my eyes. My mind struggles with cobwebs. I have no idea what I've read. Certainly I haven't grasped anything that would fortify me against the Deceiver's tricks or touch God meaningfully.

On the other hand, the Deceiver is more than willing to let me read a novel far into the night. Or permit me to watch the late show on television without nodding off. He knows that if I delay my prayer until the last thing at night, he's home free. I murmur:

“My Jesus, I love Thee, I know Thou art mine.

(But I'm just so tired that here I recline.)

My gracious Redeemer, my Savior art Thou,

(But I'll see you tomorrow. I'm sleepy just now!

The Deceiver knows that if my traditional mindset dictates that the proper times to meet with God are only in the morning or at night, he can take it easy on me all day. However, why should all be lost because some urgency or emergency kept me from my accustomed Quiet Time in the morning? Why can’t I schedule another time during the day when I’m alert? I can show the Deceiver who is boss—God is my boss! As I abide in Him, and He in me, I can be in God's presence all day long. When I walk and talk with the Lord in the midst of my daily activities, the Deceiver must keep his distance. He has no power in the presence of God, but he will still keep trying to interrupt, to distract my mind, to intrude on my awareness of God's presence in my ordinary pursuits.

Failing to divert my mind, he often attacks my body by making me hungry, or thirsty, or itchy when I enter the presence of God—or summoning any number of little aches or pains that he's used successfully on me before. So....What is my shield of faith for, if not to deflect the Deceiver's attacks?


Lord, here I am—finally!

Did You think I wasn't coming?

I began to think so too.

I can't understand what I do:

Why should I take a detour

from entering Your Majesty’s presence

to clean smudges from windows

(And I hate doing windows!)

instead of hurrying to meet You

to cleanse my soul?

Then I water house plants

that aren’t even thirsty

while it is I

who need a fresh drink

of the Water of Life.

I confess my predictable dawdle,

dilly dallying with trifles,

delaying my delight in Your presence.

Honestly, Lord, I do desire You

first above all else—though

who would guess

as they watch me digress?

I keep You waiting for me

You, who are King of the Universe,

Creator, and Savior of men!

Please forgive me.

To my shame I expose

my distorted priority.

You've never made me wait.

You have never been late.

You've always kept Your promise

that if I draw near to You,

You will draw near to me.

Lord, draw me like a magnet

into Your presence.

Cause me to come

straight as an arrow

instead of taking a detour

at every distraction.

Well, finally I'm here now

sitting at Your feet at last,

cleansed by Your Word,

resting in Your love,

refreshed and restored

by my Ever-forgiving Lord!


"But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness. . ." (Matt. 6:33). "As the deer pants for the water brooks, so my soul pants for Thee, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. . . " (Psalm 42:1,2). "Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. . . “ (James 4:8).

(Excerpt from Part I of Leona Choy’s book-in-progress DETOURITIS: It’s Causes and Cures)


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