As I closed my Bible this morning the words passed through the channels of my thoughts, “ah, today will be good because I spent time in the Word.”
I shook my head, and my inner voice spoke up, “no, that’s not how it works.”
How easily that temptation still rises in me. The idea that somehow my behavior can determine a day’s value.
I have ingrained memories of mornings that caught me off guard. The baby woke before the sun, the toddler spilled the juice soon after, and the kindergartner needed a ride to school before there was even a thought of opening my Bible. Still His grace stayed me. He was not absent from me as a consequence of my absence from my cozy chair in the corner with journal and Scripture. He saw my day well before I did, and He drew out the benefits of relationship we had already built.
My time with Him is not my guarantee of handling all of my day well. I have other memories of wrapping up a sweet time of devotion, followed closely by my own harsh words over my family, or gossip over a phone call. In fact, after all went so well with today’s morning routine, I was pulled over on my way home from the salon for entering the left turn lane too early. I was given a warning, not a ticket, and the officer even admitted it was a very minor infraction, one I would have probably argued with anyone else about as the circumstances were in no way dangerous, but it’s an example of how I was not spared the embarrassment, or time drain simply because I was disciplined about reading my Bible this morning.
I am not saying those morning quiet times do no good. I believe they are imperative, but I also believe they offer a cumulative, rather than an instant, hope of spiritual fruit.
My quiet time this morning will not add to God’s blessing in my day, it will not reroute traffic when I’m late, it will not soften my impatience, or place the watchful traffic cop at the intersection two minutes earlier. What it will do is draw me closer to God. It will offer me another moment of assurance that I belong to Him as a daughter. It will satisfy something in me, and remind me that His being God, means I don’t have to be.
If I do that once a week it’s nice. If I do it three times a week, it’s even nicer. If I spend that time of assurance with Him daily, I am storing up abundant treasures of security for my soul.
Do not preach to me, that “we make time for what we want to make time for” until you have nursed a baby, whilst feeling the demand of sick toddlers, unwashed dishes, and only raw ingredients for dinner. We make time for what we can to survive, and everything else is grace.
I can remember one morning with a little baby, and how I had tried to get up earlier in an attempt to find time in the Word before the baby needed to nurse. It didn’t work, the baby knew my plan somehow, and he would not be outmaneuvered. I remember walking past a window as sunshine streaked in, and I felt the warmth of it far below the surface. Almost as if I caught a glimpse of God smiling, reminding me that He and I were far closer than a missed coffee date could divide. I felt assurance I didn’t deserve, and I spoke to Him as I lived out the hours of mothering that day. I thanked Him first of all for the years He had beckoned me to spend time with Him uninterrupted. I knew what I was missing, but I also knew what I carried in the moment was the worthwhile fruit of so much cultivation.
So, I seek Him still; not because today counts toward an hour’s tithe of blessed devotion, but because I know how easily these moments of stillness can be stolen away, and I want to soak Him in while it is still called today.
Do not boast about tomorrow,
Proverbs 27:1
For you do not know what a day may bring forth.
My time with Him had to begin as a discipline, one that took time and intention to cultivate, but now it is simply the all encompassing life I choose. From it I draw much more than an advantage of favor. It is a deep well of security that I am His, and He is mine.