By Rachel Armenta

It had been almost eight hours. Actually, it had been eight hours since the last text message and almost 29 hours since the last phone call.

In girl time, that's about a year and a half. In relationship time, that’s completely unacceptable.

My cell phone smugly sat on my parent's Formica countertop, glaring up at me with its blank black eye.

My hands gripped the edge of the counter while I stared down at the empty screen.

My parent's dachshund, Bentley, lay sprawled across my bare feet, having long since given up wondering why his little mistress was just standing at the counter. No one else was home and the silence just added to my annoyance.

I pressed the hold button to make sure that in the millisecond in which I had blinked, a text hadn't come.

The screen lit up just as 2:44 p.m. became 2:45 p.m. No text message.

The background picture smiled handsomely at me. It was the face of the man who should be doing everything in his power to communicate with his girlfriend 200 miles and 3 hours and 26 minutes away.

But who was counting?

I tried to remind myself that I was a patient and understanding individual. That no matter what, I needed to be the bigger person in this situation. I closed my eyes and tried to take a deep breath.

No matter how much I tried to convince myself of all my Christian charity, none of it seemed to be making any difference. The facts were simple: I was hurt, angry and feeling pushed aside by my supposedly caring boyfriend.

Behind my eyelids, hot tears began to burn my eyes. I could feel my lip begin to quiver and my nose start to run. Opening my eyes and blinking hard, I let myself admit that I was absolutely miserable. I was neck deep and wallowing in a massive pool of self-pity.

Tears tightened the muscles around my throat and I pitifully croaked out, "How on earth are you supposed to build a relationship with someone, if you never take the time to get to know them?!"

The moment after I sputtered out those words, the Holy Spirit grabbed them and aimed them straight back at my heart.

A still small voice gently whispered through my emotional anger and into my tired spirit.

"Rachel, how am I supposed to build a relationship with you, if you don't take the time to get to know Me?"

The voice of Christ stopped my hissy-fit dead in its tracks. In that moment, I remember just sitting down on the kitchen floor and doing an intense heart evaluation.

Things had gotten so busy. I was working two jobs, taking some extra-curricular college classes, and was involved in children’s church, choir, weekly outreaches, and maintaining a long distance relationship. Oh, and my personal relationship with Christ? If sleepily saying my ra-ba-billo-sha-hondos when I crawled out of bed in the morning or reading one scripture before passing out after a 3-hour phone conversation with my man counted, then sure, everything was perfectly okay. 

In reality, things were anything but. My lips were professing love and devotion for Christ but I wasn't showing any of that love or devotion to Him.

I’m so grateful that at that moment, God used a circumstance to jolt me back on track.

A personal relationship with Christ is so much more than a casual friendship. It's a marriage, a commitment and a lifetime work in progress.

Now, let’s fast forward from that moment of hormonal insecurity.

By the grace of God, my boyfriend wasn't scared away by my emotional moments, and one starry night he asked me to be his bride. Among the many wonderful and challenging things that marriage has brought is a greater understanding of what it means to be in a marriage relationship with Christ.

All over the New Testament, we the church are referred to as the bride of Christ. The day we gave our lives to Christ beautifully parallels a wedding day.

In one moment, with such simple words as “I do,” we enter a holy union, a sacred covenant and a lifetime commitment. It’s a lifetime of growing and learning, changing and challenging. Just like my marriage, my relationship with Christ requires daily maintenance and effort.

Now imagine with me for a moment that I treat my marriage as I was treating my relationship with Christ:

Occasionally I say hello to my husband in the mornings and thank him for breakfast, lunch and dinner. When he tries to talk to me I'm too busy texting, Facebooking, or doing my own thing. But if I need something, I come running with my list of demands and needs. After he generously supplies those things, I may offer a thank you and go back to my disinterested routine. Even on days I specifically set aside for him, I'm distracted, busy, and too concerned with other things and people.

Can you imagine how deeply wounded and heartbroken my love would be? Would you blame him for giving up?

Can we imagine being treated that way by someone we love so passionately? By someone that we promised to give a lifetime to? By someone we died for?

Yet, do we find ourselves doing that very thing to the Lover of our souls? Pushing aside and ignoring the very One who gave everything to prove His love? Being too busy with all the things we're supposedly doing for Him that we spend so little time with Him? I know I have.

Amazingly and incredibly, Jesus has never walked away. He has mercifully and compassionately opened my eyes, called me again and used circumstances to show me how far I have drifted away.

He has never moved. I'm the one who has.