A Prayer On The Plane

Father, renew our love for you… our first love.  

Flying for the first time and in all sorts of excitement, I caught myself thinking, “This is so great! Oh, I wish planes had an open top— that would be so cool.” First of all… first time flying and I’m already over it? My heart is so easily fooled. So quick to move on. So easy to be swayed away. And a sobering realization struck me,, and I’ve got to tell you, admitting it stings, I do the same with God. And if you, like me, have gotten over something good so quickly, maybe you need to pray the prayer with me—Father, renew my first love for you.  

At times, when things aren’t going our way, we are found striving to blacken the God, who, but two months, a year, or two before, we called good, faithful and kind. And we all, if we are being honest, at some point in our lives, realize we’ve always distrusted the appearance of  His goodness.  

That’s the frightening thing about the human heart— not only that it wanders, but that it wanders so casually. We do not drift from God dramatically most of the time. We drift quietly. Slowly. Through familiarity. Through routine. Through receiving mercies so often that they stop astonishing us. We become like children bored in rooms full of treasure.  

The prayers that once made us weep become phrases we recite half awake. The Bible that once felt like bread becomes another task to tick off. The grace that rescued us becomes assumed instead of adored. And slowly, without realizing it, our hearts begin looking elsewhere for wonder (like I did on the plane, not that this is even remotely similar).  Not because God became less beautiful. Not because Christ became less worthy. But because sin has a way of dulling our sight.  

We often think our problem is that we desire too much from the world, extraordinary and magical experiences. But perhaps the deeper issue is that we desire too little from God. C.  S. Lewis once wrote, “It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when  infinite joy is offered us.” And isn’t that painfully true? We settle so easily. We lose wonder so quickly. We trade eternal glory for temporary distractions and then wonder why our souls feel tired and unsatisfied. Our hearts were made for God, yet we keep trying to survive on lesser things.  

And complacency is dangerous precisely because it does not feel dangerous. A cold heart rarely announces itself. It simply stops marvelling. Stops lingering. Stops beholding Christ with affection. We still sing the songs. Still attend church. Still say “God is good.”  (Seriously, how did you not respond “all the time”?). But somewhere along the way, love becomes memory instead of fire. Yet the beauty of the gospel is that God’s pursuit of us is stronger than our inconsistency toward Him. Even when our love weakens, His does not.  

The God who called Israel back again and again is the same God who keeps drawing wandering people to Himself now. The Shepherd does not abandon His sheep because they are prone to wander. Christ did not go to the cross because our devotion was steady enough to deserve saving. He went because His mercy is deeper than our rebellion.  Richard Sibbes writes, “There is more grace in Christ than sin in us”, both a comfort and a rebuke.  

Sometimes I think we speak about “seeking God” as though He is the reluctant one in the relationship. Meanwhile, Scripture paints the opposite picture. God is the One pursuing.  God is the One calling. God is the One standing with open arms toward undeserving 

people. His desire toward His people is unwavering, covenantal, and stubborn in grace. And maybe that is what should undo us most. That while we are easily distracted, He remains steadfast. While our affections flicker, the love of God burns with eternal consistency.  

So perhaps the prayer is not merely:  

“Lord, make me feel passionate again.”  

Perhaps the prayer is:  

“Lord, open my eyes again.”  

Help me see Your beauty beyond familiarity. Help me tremble again at Your grace. Help me remember that the cross was not a small thing. Help me behold Christ not as useful,  but glorious. Because cold hearts are not healed by guilt and striving. They are awakened by seeing Jesus again.  

Father, renew our wonder.  

Renew our awe.  

Renew our first love for You.