There’s only one problem. This station has one of the lowest frequencies on the radio, so the signal gets interrupted occasionally.
This morning was particularly bad. Intertwined with the music of Ellington, Armstrong and Coltrane were the rantings of some politically-charged woman, the shrieking of a badly tuned guitar and the frustrating crackle of static. But I did my best to fight through it all, thinking I was just driving through a few dead zones and hoping the signal would clear. Eventually, it did.
But as I navigated the interruptions, something occurred to me that sent chills down my back. My relationship with God is too often like that radio station.
There are times when my connection with God is as sweet as the sounds of Dizzie Gillespie’s trumpet or Billie Holiday’s voice. It calms the nerves. It focuses the mind. It stirs creativity. It soothes the soul.
But other times, I allow distractions to interrupt what was once so pleasing, so melodious, so musical. Rather than having a strong, consistent signal with God, I turn to him with less and less frequency and instead experience the shriek of an invading world.
Whatever I say to myself to justify tuning out (I’m driving through a dead zone; the signal will clear up soon), I allow other things to interrupt my relationship with God. And instead of experiencing the joy of a relationship with him, I deal with the frustration of too many things vying for my time, my energy, my focus.
God wants a clear signal in my relationship with him. Because he knows that’s the only way (not just the best way) that I will get the most out of life. So like I have to often do in my car, I’m resetting my dial again. And I’m going to rely on him to keep the static from interrupting the tunes again.
