I assumed blog silence some weeks ago. Around that same time, I embarked upon a Bible-reading break. It wasn’t on purpose or for any specific reason. A wonky thyroid making me so tired that to wake up at 6 am for some time with Jesus was very nearly a physical impossibility. My David Bible study ending, and my beginning a personal study of the life of Jacob, which lies in the Old Testament, which I have a terribly hard time plowing through unless I am guided by a teacher with all sorts of insightful things to point out about the same story repeated three times within a passage. This annoys me about myself.
This was the morning, though. I have felt it coming for about a week now. The Holy Spirit has been nudging, forcing me to acknowledge that I cannot possibly live this life apart from a rich and growing relationship with Jesus. So, when my alarm went off at 6 am, obviously I hit the snooze. Then I reconsidered, turned off the alarm, and padded to the living room to start the honored “time alone with Jesus” thing again.
I wish I could tell you that it was life changing – that God gave me exactly the scripture I needed this morning – that it was rich and full and made me remember what I’ve been missing, but that would not be true. God’s Word was/is always valuable and good. Spending time there is always fruitful, but quite probably not in the way I want it to be. There were no warm fuzzies this morning. I spent time in the Word because I want to commune with Jesus, not use Him as a Xanax or an Adderall. I spent time because I am beginning to understand that time is the currency of knowing Him wholly.
Most everything in my life is pointing me toward the doing these days. Do you feel that? God’s call to step out of words and knowledge and philosophy so that we can put one foot upon the hard, rough surface of life and start doing that which we have read and talked and listened for years? I feel the box I have had Him tucked into neatly beginning to open and crack at the seams. The sight of it makes my heart race in holy fear and joy. To imagine that He is not different than I always thought – but that He is MORE – is…unimaginable. I already imagined Him as so much.
I am turned inward, contemplative, churning to digest these new morsels of truth that I have only just tasted. My prayer is that I will not only taste but use their nutrients to go to work doing. Grace. Gratitude. Generosity. How they stir. I wonder what Holy magic He could do with them today if I lay down a few bills of time.
Thanks! This is just what I needed to read this morning to help motivate me toward this same quiet time with God.
Emily, you never cease to inspire me. I love you