I pull out my crayon box in search for the right colors so I can see those God breathed words come together. My red crayon to remember sacrifice, because isn't that the foundation of love. With purple I will uncover the heart. At first I move slow and find my thoughts drifting, but days pass and the pages turn faster and naps end quickly and it's not enough time. I need more time. These Holy words need more of my time. I so desperately need to see.
Alone sipping coffee the pages turn, crayon marks show me how far I am from Honest Love, the foundation of God's heart. The more I search the more my religion is torn apart. This is good, because God hates rituals, and isn't religion just a list of rituals to check off ensuring one has done enough? Isn't religion just one more caution that God doesn't simply want obedience but wants our love.
Is it a fast like this which I choose, a day for a man to humble himself? Is it for bowing one's head like a reed and for spreading out sackcloth and ashes as a bed? Will you call this a fast, even an acceptable day to the LORD? Is this not the fast which I choose, to loosen the bonds of wickedness, to undo the bands of the yoke, and to let the oppressed go free and break every yoke? Is it not to divide your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into the house; when you see the naked, to cover him; and not to hide yourself from your own flesh? Then your light will break out like the dawn, and your recovery will speedily spring forth; and your righteousness will go before you; the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard. Then you will call, and the LORD will answer; you will cry, and He will say, "Here I am."
~ Isaiah 58:5-9a