We wait our whole lives for this -- the Obsession. It pulses in the back of your mind, sings in the bottom of your heart, wraps its arms around you till you're breathless. It's not forced, it's not played up, it just is -- obsessive. It wipes out and away all fears and tears.
I never thought I could have the Obsession. It was for others more worthy -- better -- beautiful -- good. It was for those who had worked a lifetime on it. It was for those who could get up in the morning at 5 AM and keep awake through page after page of genealogies. It was for J. I. Packer, A. W. Tozer, Francis Chan, Augustine and Thomas a Kempis, who wrote the books on the Obsession.
I'm talking about the God Obsession -- the relentless, deep desire to know God and then the actual knowing God and then the hope, peace and joy that lasts forever. I'm talking about living a life of faith, not nominal Christianity, of delighting in God, of tasting and seeing that He is good, of thirsting and longing for Him so much that He becomes everything.
We want it so much that we doubt it's even attainable. We feel stuck in the same rut of spiritual deadness, leaping in victory only to fall harder. Christianity seems to be a game of hide and seek that we always lose.
These past three weeks -- two really hard ones coupled with one really awesome one -- brought me to my knees. The last defenses of pride and bitterness came down. He cut through a thick veil of quivering, fearful flesh that hung between me and the holiest place of God's heart. I prayed every day, off and on, faulty but determined: "I want to want You."
I'm obsessed now.
I know God -- a full-frontal, nothing-held-back relationship. He's changing me so rapidly that I can barely keep up. Everything reminds me of Him. Nothing seems as interesting as speaking His name, talking about what He's doing, devouring who He is. I've been dying to write this blog post for the past few days now, but I just couldn't put into words the crazy, upside-down concept of the least-likely person in the world actually knowing God.
The peace -- the joy -- the love that courses through me right now -- it's insanely real. It's not an emotion: it's a promise. A promise that I clung to, that God is not far from each one of us, that He gives us the desires of our hearts, that whoever asks receives.
It took the surrender of everything. It took stripping naked and empty, peeling off layer after layer of sin, bitterness, fear, hurt. It took almost a full year when I first stopped playing the game of hide and seek and begged God to show Himself to me. Jesus wasn't kidding when He said that whoever wished to follow Him must take up his cross -- it took a horribly long, spiritually bloody death to finally say yes to following Jesus.
But He did it. He was faithful, one hundred percent. And now I'm Obsessed.