"I sniff your eyeball"

On mornings when I sleep in, I often see something kinda like this: Macho's orange face sniffing my eyeball. (This photo doesn't quite do it justice. It's more of a giant white chin with gigantic whiskers about to devour my eyeball.) Macho is about 15 years old. He's officially been my cat for almost 13 years now. Why does he keep sniffing my eyeball? Doesn't it smell exactly the same every time he sniffs it?

And what kind of thoughts go through his head? "I sniff your eyeball; now you will feed me breakfast." "Oh, my gosh, you're still alive!" "Wait. Do I know you?" "Um, in case you were wondering, you promised me last night that you were going to feed me tuna today... lots and lots and lots of tuna."

Nice try, Macho.

"You crown the year with Your goodness, and Your paths drip with abundance. They drop on the pastures of the wilderness, and the little hills rejoice on every side." (Psalm 65:11-12)

A major motif this year in my relationship with God has been intimacy. I've been learning and re-learning about intimacy in general and just how exciting and scary it can be simultaneously. God knows everything about me -- even before I ever existed -- and yet He still wants me to pour out my heart to Him. He still wants us to communicate with each other as closely as possible, because He and I are friends. We're family. He's always there for me. I need Him, or I'll die. He feeds me. He quenches my thirst. He satisfies my inner aches, and then He revs up my curiosity for more.

I watched and videotaped an interview a few years ago on a Christian TV special. A pastor or just a host guy interviewed a worship leader and asked her about her relationship with God. "Do you have a routine?" he asked. Wait. Did he want to know about her relationship with God, or did he want to know about her quiet time? Those are two different things. I think that would be sort of like saying, "Hey, I'd like to know if you're a good driver. What kind of car do you drive?" Um...

God isn't just an ethereal Being that you interact with during your quiet time routine, and then that's it. However, He is a Mystery who's worth pursuing, digging into and, quite frankly, obsessing over.

So, this God who feeds me from Himself, this Author of the most alive Book in the entire universe, has dropped little mysteries for me to find all over His word. It's sort of like a treasure hunt.

While I was unemployed, I was zipping through Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther, and Job, but when I got to the Psalms, I skidded to a molasses-slow halt. I got to Psalm 18, and I've been stuck there ever since. Did you know that Psalm 18 is almost identical to 2 Samuel 22? Why did David change certain phrases and add certain things to his psalm between the time he gushed it out in 2 Samuel and the time it was published in the songbook of the Israelites? Or was it the other way around? And did you know that Psalm 68 is based on Judges chapter 5? (according to one commentary?)

"She stretched her hand to the tent peg, her right hand to the workmen's hammer; she pounded Sisera, she pierced his head, she split and struck through his temple. At her feet he sank, he fell, he lay still; at her feet he sank, he fell; where he sank, there he fell dead." (Judges 5:26-27)

Hmm. I wonder if Deborah was headbanging with an electric guitar while she was leading that song.

And have you ever seen Psalm 65? Whoever heard of a path dripping with abundance? And whoever heard of a drippy-abundant path dropping on a pasture in the wilderness??

Apparently God did. I think it was His idea. And I think He does it all the time. But He's definitely revved up my curiosity to find out more.

Earlier this week, I voted. In case you can't tell from the Facebook pages that I "Like," I'm a Republican. But I don't like to vote straight ticket. I like to reserve the right to vote for a Democrat (or a member of any other party, for that matter) in case the Republican in a particular race is being a total dork, or in case a race is uncontested because a Republican couldn't get off his/her butt to actually run against a Democrat (or a member of any other party, for that matter). But that is just my personal preference/quirk.

Perhaps it's because I'm lazy or uninterested, or perhaps it's because I'm burned out from years of having politics crammed down my throat -- whatever the reason, I just haven't been keeping myself informed with political issues during the past several years hardly at all. During this particular election, I discovered that I was almost completely uninformed. So, voting was pretty fun. I showed up at the booth, and to my surprise, another Bush was on the ballot. I got to vote for another Bush! Sweet!

Perhaps I'm a terrible example of how to vote, but I hope all the candidates I voted for appreciate the fact that I actually got off my butt and voted for them. I may not have spent hours of preparing or studying for the election, but I did something extremely important: I showed up.

In my struggle with friendships and relationships in general, I've learned that actually getting off your butt and showing up is extremely important. Forget the five love languages. Forget the personality tests. Forget everything you thought you knew about friendships and relationships in general. If you don't make some sort of effort to actually show up -- and if you don't keep showing up -- you and I certainly won't become intimate friends, and we may not even have any kind of relationship at all in the end.

Don't you appreciate it when God "shows up"? I think He appreciates it when you show up, too. And, of course, when I say "you," I mean "me."

Speaking of cats who sniff your eyeball, years ago I was kitten-sitting for a friend. I was alone in my friend's living room when the baby cat randomly walked up to me and started licking my eyelid. I'm not exactly sure why she did this, but I think it was one of the most innocent expressions of affection that an animal has ever given me. (And I think it was also heartbreaking when my friend told me I could have her kitten and then changed her mind.) I don't think I needed to have my eyelid exfoliated that day, but I was definitely blessed to have a kitten get close enough to me to say Hi in a very special way that day. (Maybe it was also her way of thanking me for feeding her?)

I think maybe in the same way that Macho sometimes sniffs my eyeball in pursuit of breakfast, I need to sniff God's metaphorical eyeball in pursuit of His feeding my metaphorical belly, quenching my metaphorical thirst, and satisfying my inner aches. I mean, it's not like I've never sniffed His metaphorical eyeball before. Maybe it smells exactly the same as it did the last time I sniffed it.

Or does it?

If He really is full of grace and truth, what does His eyeball smell like after He's been grieving over humanity? What makes Him tick? Why does He love? Why did He choose me? Why hasn't He ever zapped me off the face of the earth? Why wait until I die and get to heaven to ask Him my deepest, most itching questions?

I don't think He wants me to wait. I think He wants me to be comfortable enough around Him to walk right up to Him and say something like, "I sniff Your eyeball; please feed me, because I am starving." He'll probably reply something like, "I thought you'd never ask." I'd probably reply, "Wait; if You're God, what do You mean You thought I'd never ask, even though You already knew that I would ask?" He'd probably reply, "You got a problem with Me talking to you like a Friend?" I'd probably say, "Please don't burn me to a crisp." He'd probably say, "Never." I'd probably sigh, "Daddy, please hang out with me today." He'd probably whisper, "Of course, little girl."

Why did David re-publish 2 Samuel 22 as Psalm 18? Why did he base Psalm 68 off Judges 5 (according to one commentary)? And how the heck can a God who's so gentle with His children be so gory in battle?

This inquiring mind wants to know. This little girl wants to know her Daddy as intimately as He will let her. Maybe tomorrow morning... or maybe even later tonight... He'll let me show up, walk right up to Him, and sniff His eyeball all over again.