Yesterday was a the typical mundane Tuesday.
I made a million lattes and made small talk with any passerby of my quaint little espresso bar.
I woke up well-rested and was ready to face the day.
A few hours into my shift, my coworker knocked over a gallon of milk and my instant response was
“OH SHIT!”
Not like a little whisper under my breath…
It was yell status.
As soon as I realized the scene I had just caused,
I looked up and there stood my dad…
“Goodmorning, Ruthie!”
I could feel all the blood in my body rushing to my cheeks
as i continued small talk with my precious father before he headed to work.
He didn’t say a word about the profanity exiting his daughters mouth that he’s oh so proud of…
But I’m pretty sure that made it worse.
As my shift continued, I continually replayed the whole scene in my head.
Why on earth couldn’t I have just said “OH NO!” or “SHOOT!”
as the milk plummeted to the ground…
I was mortified.
This was the first time my dad had come into the shop since I’d been working there…
and the first word he heard mumbled (yelled) from my lips was a curse word.
All throughout the day I just longed to return to that moment and change it.
I replayed over and over the conversation I would have with him when I got home.
How embarassed I was and ultimately sorry that I spoke that way.
And then it hit me.
I am way more concerned with how my earthly father views me than I am of my Heavenly Father.
I go throughout my day doing and saying what I want…
Not yielding to the Almighty God that calls me His beloved daughter.
I know that he is all knowing.
I know that he knows when I rise and when I lay down.
I know that he knows how many hairs I have on my head… and how many days I have on this earth.
Yet I act as if he’s a graceful friend somewhere up in the sky.
The reverent fear I have for my earthly father should be multiplied by a million for my Father who breathed me into being…
For my Father that could easily breathe me into eternity tomorrow.
I am struck by this realization.
I want to fear Him more.
I want to be convicted not only by wrongful actions, but my thoughts too.
I want to be so intimate with Him that I retract with overwhelming conviction
and exploding with repentance when I screw up.
It amazes me how fleshly I can be and how detached I can become to my spirit.
Some days I’m bumping in the Spirit and strong and feel fearless.
The next day I’m wondering if I even know Him.
Somedays I approach Him with confidence
and the next I approach Him like a coward… scared He will turn His back from me.
Meanwhile… I got home from work and talked to my dad.
He laughed and said, “I didn’t even hear you say that.”
What.
All of that anxiety and time poured into getting worked up
and he didn’t even hear me…
Thanks Jesus for yet again another glimpse of your grace.
Change my heart.
That I may fear you…
and serve you with every microscopic fiber of my being.