Devour

What do you devour, tough girl?

Me? Well, I devour books. I’m always reading at least three at a time. Some I skim. Some take me longer than others. But, for the most part, I devour them. I’ll stay up all night just to get to a stopping point – which, typically, is the end of the book. Or I’ll hole myself up in the bathroom just to capture a few minutes and consume a chapter or two. I’m notorious for spending seventeen dollars on a new release only to finish it two days later.

I also devour candy. Make it fruit and you’ve peaked my interest. Add in gummy and I’m hooked. And if it’s sour? I devour. I’ve made myself sick inhaling sour gummy candy driven by something inside that never seems to be satisfied, even as my tongue suffers nasty side effects.

All tough girls are marked by a passion that seems extreme at times. Maybe you don’t devour books or sour gummy candy, but I am sure there are a few things in your life that you take to an extreme, making people scratch their heads and wonder just how in the world you do that.

I long to devour the Bible. To not be able to get enough of it, anxious to read it every day. I want to devour what it says, erring on believing it too much as opposed to not enough. I want to devour what God says to me through it, allowing it to convict me, cut me, refine me, change me, transform me.

When’s the last time I just sat with God’s Word, prepared to have my world rocked by what it says? When’s the last time I said to God, “You’re right and I’m wrong?” Whenever I read books, I never say, “I don’t really like that, so I’m just going to pretend it’s not there.” When I eat candy, I don’t say, “Have less sugar and don’t make my butt big and then I’ll eat you.” I devour them wholly and completely, just the way they are.

So I’ll ask again – what do you devour, tough girl? And, more importantly, how?

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