It was going to be amazing. Just like the jewelry beads, the scarecrow family, and the Oreo turkeys, only Christmas oriented instead. I had the frosting out, the pre-shaped pieces for the little gingerbread houses, the gumdrops for the windows - everything! We just had to cut them out and put them together. And decorate them, of course.
So I started asking around. Gingerbread house, anyone? “Sure . . . maybe. After I do my homework. I’ve got a lot of homework tonight.” “Um, can I talk to my mom first online?” “Well, maybe later. I was kinda thinking I might take a nap.” Student after student listened, smiled, and declined. In fact, the only one who was enthusiastic was McKenzie, and she’s seven.
I walked into the computer room after a round of useless asking and found a fair number of them, staring at their computer screens, oblivious to the world.
That’s when it hit me.
These girls didn’t care about sitting down and doing something with me. It’s not that they don’t like me. They simply weren’t interested. There were two and a half hours between school getting out and the dinner bell ringing, and they wanted to spend that time the way they chose. Which meant sitting in front of the computer. Alone. There was no time for spending quality time with me. It wasn’t about getting to know each other better. Having good talks. Creating memories. They’d actually prefer to stare at the computer for a couple hours, thank you very much.
I wonder if we do the same thing to God.
There He is, sitting at the kitchen table with the gingerbread and gumdrops spread out before Him. Waiting for us to walk through the door and spend some quality time with Him. Have a good talk. Create a memory. Instead, we get on the Internet. Or flip on the television. Or take a nap. It’s not that we don’t like Him. We’re just not interested.
