Come Sit with Me

The older I get, the more I want things that can’t be touched, only felt. Encouraging words and quality time will send me soaring. I love when someone I love spends time with me, and if I can have all the people I love most with me at the same time, this girl is sent orbiting.

I have four kids–three that were born to me, one that joined us later–and I love when they sit with me at church. At one point we would all fit on less than a  half pew. One in my lap, one in my husband’s, and one snuggled up close between us. As they grew, we spread out a little and added a friend or two, but they were still on the pew with me.

Now that two of my boys are in college and seldom home at the same time, I cherish the few-and-far-between days that we have the opportunity to sit together.

Last Sunday was no different.

As the music started, I looked down my pew and beamed. There were my three boys and their girlfriends. My girl was missing, but I knew she was there. She was in the back row with her friends. I’d catch her during the meet-and-greet time and ask her to come sit with me.

I found her, hugged her tight and whispered in her ear. “It makes my heart happy when all my babies are sitting beside me. Come sit with me.” She grinned, and we went on greeting and hugging these people we do life with. I knew she’d join me in a bit.

Minutes passed, the crowd headed back to their seats,we began singing the next song and my girl wasn’t there. I looked back to where her friends were. There she was.

I tried to make eye contact but couldn’t catch her eye. My heart ached.

I whispered a prayer. “God, could you remind her that I want her to sit with me? It’s the little things, Father, that are big to me.”

He answered softly in the depths of my heart. “I know, my child. I know exactly how you feel. I want my children to come sit with me, too.”

Tears filled my eyes. Partly because she wasn’t sitting with me, but mostly because I realized I have done that to God. I have neglected sitting with Him.

Each morning He beckons in the depths of my heart, “Come, sit with me.” 

I awaken with the best of intentions. Today I will spend time with Him first.

But I decide to empty and reload the dishwasher first, because I might as well get a load going. Then, I do the same with the laundry. And then I feed the dog. And then I feed the chickens and gather the eggs. And then the phone rings. And I dump the trash. And I get something from the freezer to thaw for dinner. And I…the list goes on and on.

Then the day is gone, and I still haven’t sat with God.

Jesus spent much one-on-one time with the Father. He knew that he would need to be energized and equipped for the day, so ” he often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.” (Luke 5:16)

Mark 1:35 says, “Very early in the morning,while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed.” He was faithful in protecting that time with God. He had a set time, a set place, and a set plan.

Moses was much the same way. In Exodus 33:7-11, Moses would enter the Tent of Meeting to talk with God. “The Lord would speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks with his friend.”

God beckons me, but I don’t always answer. Just like I held my daughter’s hands, looked into her eyes and beckoned, “Come, sit with me. It means the world to me when my babies are all sitting by me,” He  invites me to sit beside Him. To communicate with Him. To learn His heart as I share mine.

Just like Moses’s encounter, He wants to be my friend.

Throughout the service that day, tears slipped out of my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. So did regret. How many times had I missed time with God? How many times had I broken His heart by not spending time with him?

Yes, I could’ve marched right to that back row and grabbed my daughter’s hand and brought her to sit by me and the family. I’m the mom, she’s the daughter. I could’ve made her do that. But what would that have meant?

Forcing her to spend time with me means nothing. Her choosing it means the world.

Making her sit beside me means nothing. Her delighting in my presence means the world.

All I can do is invite her…just as Jesus invites me to sit with the Father. He doesn’t beg. He beckons. He doesn’t command. He calls.

She will always be my daughter and she doesn’t have to perform to maintain that. But our relationship grows and deepens as we spend time together and delight in each other’s presence. We must listen and speak to each other in order to have correct communication.

It’s the same with my relationship with God. Because of Jesus, I will forever be able to talk to God. My performance doesn’t change my position, but it changes my relationship.  James 4:8 says, “Come near to God and He will come near to you.”  Correct communication with Him requires that I speak to Him in prayer and listen to Him through scripture.

Yes, I’ll admit, for a moment I sat there feeling sorry for myself. I wanted her to choose me, but she didn’t. I wanted to scream, but I could only beckon. I remembered being a teenager and wanting to sit with my friends instead of my parents. I didn’t intentionally hurt my parents by choosing my friends, and neither did she.

That moment taught me much. God gave me a glimpse of His heart. I felt what He feels. And, in that moment, I desired to bring Him joy. I wanted to delight in His presence. I wanted to sit with Him.

He used my daughter and the disappointment of her choice to change me. What the Enemy meant to cause pity for myself and bitterness for her instead caused me to pause and change my perspective toward the heart of God. That’s what the Father does best. He takes what’s meant to hurt me and uses it to heal  me. He uses it to teach me.

May each morning find me in a solitary place with Him. May I go running to Him as He beckons. May I delight in His presence. May He continue to teach me.