I start most days before the sun is up, before children stir, before the busy takes over and I forget where my feet hit the ground. I feel like I require huge amounts of margin and quiet, and the best place for me to find that is in the morning.
I pray and read and write, taking in Spirit and breathing out all manner of doubtful praise and sorrowful confession before God, mixed with thanksgiving and a little hand-wringing.
My half-thoughts become prayers and the ticking clock almost sounds slower, the closer I get to full communion. Even staring at the wall feels sacred during this time.
God gives me a gradually rising sun so that the day comes slowly and gently, just the way I need to come to it. Just the way I ought to approach every task, and most importantly, every person.
It’s easy to have peace and revelation in a quiet house though, before any demands are made on your time or energy or grace. It’s not a struggle to focus on Jesus when your babies are tucked peacefully in their beds and no one needs to be fed or instructed or transported yet.
The depths of my weaknesses are not plumbed in the quiet morning hours. I am full of untested patience and untried peace, of untapped grace and several cups of coffee. I’m pretty sure Jesus and I can conquer this day.
This is where I tell you how 7 a.m. comes with the thunder of feet and needs, and how quiet time is over and I’m thrust into the swirl of the day.
The problems don’t start when my quiet time ends, though. The problem sometimes is my quiet time. Or, at least, the way I think about it.
I treat quiet time like the golden hour of my day, like it’s all downhill from there and the day will slowly drain away everything Jesus poured in that morning.
I sometimes treat my quiet time like a meeting – with a beginning and an end, with objectives and official minutes and snacks and coffee.
What I need is to take quiet into the day with me and live like the temple of the Spirit that I am – a place where Jesus dwells, not visits.
Maybe, instead of meeting Jesus in my quiet time, I’ve met a to-do list that has made me empty before the fullness of day even starts. Maybe I’ve brought my list to Jesus and demanded help, like Martha.
Jesus finds me after my quiet time when I choose, I decide – whether our meeting ends with the full daylight of a busy schedule and precious people; or whether I find quiet in my heart throughout the day.
A scripture written on a notecard and left out for review throughout the day…
A quiet alarm each hour to bring me back to a place of prayer…
Music in the background to encourage worship in us all…
Slow talks with individuals – because my kids want to slow down, too…
That quiet time in the morning, when Jesus finds you and pours His new mercy in, is precious and important. I don’t need to tell you how there will be mornings when it doesn’t happen, though. Mornings where silence is broken early and the day is rolling before your thoughts are squared away.
Let me encourage you to resist the urge to make Quiet Time an idol in your life, and instead, to determine to be found by Jesus at every time and place, whether it’s quiet or not; whether it’s morning or not.
How does Jesus find you throughout your day?
With a quiet heart,
Tresta from Sharp Paynes