It is that stage in life where the day feels so full that there is barely room to breathe. With working full time, my day is brimming with stories, complaints, and check lists. My time at home is marked by conversations with my husband, bedtimes, and dishes. It is sweet to stop and breathe in cuddles with our little girl and smiles from the baby. Their giggles are infectious. Holding them warms my heart.

In the midst of busyness, God feels disinterested and distant. Reminders of His tenderness and love sound foreign to these well-trained Sunday school ears. I’m aware of His blessings and how all of it can be taken away in a moment. I’m grateful for my passionate husband and wonderful children. And yet, my heart is bored, cynical, and distracted.  

This confession feels like a disrespect to God. I know of His gospel and His loving sacrifice, but it feels smaller than it should. His majesty is great and worthy of worship. My busy heart wanders away to the next task. I’m ashamed of these admittances.  

At 40, I thought I would be better at this. I hoped I would be further down the road to loving God with all my heart, soul, and mind. Instead, I find difficultly remembering His presence and believing His miracles. What a hard, bored heart that I have.

One of my favorite series is CS. Lewis’s The Chronicles of Narnia. I find myself coming back to the momentous quote about Aslan/God, when Mr. Beaver explains to Susan, “‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”

I’m longing for my heart to soften enough to encounter the wildness of God.

He isn’t boxed into my safe, comfortable world. That feels uncomfortable to sit with.    

I’m terrified to ask for meeting His wildness, fearful of great suffering in my cushy suburban life. What could God ask for? Would He dare bless me with more? Would He dare draw me near, change my heart, and fill my days? There is the hope to encounter my great King and delve into His goodness.

Aimee is an Asian American physician, recently married to the love of her life. She loves deep, honest conversation, being silly with her husband, and pondering God’s presence in this broken world. She is honored to contribute to Red Tent Living but requests anonymity in respect for her personal and professional privacy. b