The Guilty Conscience Speaks

Over the last few weeks, E, a good friend, has been trying to talk to me more about Jesus, particularly since our chats where I told him that I was struggling to read God's Word.

He lent me a book in Isaiah studies on Thursday, on condition that I read it in two weeks and spend a good solid few hours dwelling on what it's got to say about God. [Okay, okay, the deal was that I spend two of my best hours of the day on a study each time.] [I didn't want to share that, 'cause that'd mean that you'd be able to keep me accountable.] [So far, I've read about 30 minutes of Isaiah.] [To be fair, I read faster than the average Joe.][Excuses.] [Anyway.]

On the one hand, I'm really grateful that he's looking out for me in this way. Because I move between so many different circles, I can slip between the cracks if I so wish. And somewhere, a niggling voice is telling me that my relationship with God's Word shouldn't be in the state it currently is, so to have his active intervention is kinda a relief, an ultimatum of sorts.

On the other hand, I'm slightly irritated. I've had thoughts of defensiveness and rationalization ever since our discussions: "I really don't know why he's so concerned that I read this. It's not like I'm not a Christian. It's not like I'm not talking to God. Puhleease, I'm like a mature follower of Christ".

I've been intrigued by these thoughts - Why do I see his helpfulness as an accusation, rather than support? Why am I trying to assuage a guilty conscience with talk of "I'm fine, I'm fine?"

If anything, I've finally realized that my attitude is a strong indicator of the necessity of me plunging back into the Word.