Strangers...again.

"You keep me up at night so I'll talk to you, don't you?"

I say into the darkness. My husband is beside me, breathing steadily. He falls asleep so easily while I am left with my thoughts, and the darkness.

"Is it because that's the only time I talk to you?" This thought brings a tear that falls slowly down my face. "I'm sorry." I think about all the times I say that in a day. "I'm sorry Lord."

Then a familiar picture comes to mind, one that I have had pop into my head for years, one that I reenact and dream about time and time again.

It is my first moment in Heaven, thousands of people surround me and I gaze around in wonder. Then I see Him, Jesus, and I stop.
My mouth hangs open and I stare, dumb founded at Him. Then I see a silly, stupid, crazy, God-like grin spread upon His face and I run to Him. He grabs me and holds me tightly, like He never wants to let me go, like He has been waiting for such a long time. I cling to Him, knowing this is it, this is worth it all.

Then He laughs, a beautiful laugh that starts deep, deep inside and bubbles out, the most wonderful laugh I have ever heard. He swings me around and we both laugh and cry.
He looks at me and says "Welcome home."

And that's where it ends, there is no "Good and faithful servant." because I haven't deserved that yet. I mess up countless times.

I get angry.
I gossip.
I say no to God and His still small voice.
I am content with the mundane.
I waste hours on the Internet.
I don't do what I know I should.

And the list goes on.
I don't hear Him saying those words because I am only a little girl, who desperately tries to do what she can, what she has been taught. Whatever I do that's right is not to my credit, but only to God's. It is HIM in me that is beautiful, that is good.
He is who I will cling to when I enter Heaven, because it is His blood that has given me life, and life to the full. So I wait, and live in such a way as to deserve those words.

I tell him all of this as I lay there, listening to Jordan's breathing.

I tell my Lord all that I am thinking, I pray for my friends, for the girls in my Bible Study, that they will know they are beautiful and treasured, that God would be their comfort in this crazy adolescent time. I pray for the high school girls I recently met and was able to talk about purity with. I pray for a friend who lives in darkness, a friend who is struggling with committing all to God, wisdom for a friend in the midst of making a big decision. I pray for a friend who's birthday is tomorrow, a friend who just started a relationship, a friend who now has a new life of health after battling for years without it, a friend welcoming a baby in a few short months, a friend who longs to welcome a baby. I pray and I pray.

And then I stop, because something isn't right. "Oh shoot, I'm talking too much again, I'm sorry God, please speak to me." I say, all the while knowing that I can never stop talking or thinking long enough to hear Him, and yet He loves me still and finds countless other ways to speak to me.
But then it happens.

"Am I talking to you as if I'm a stranger?" I whisper.
"As if You are?"

Imagine, the God of the Universe, the God who created me in His image and has loved me through every moment, being a stranger. I felt like I had to introduce myself.

"I love you." I whisper.

And I see His silly, stupid, crazy, God-like grin, and I run to Him.