Time

I read a collection of devotionals, wrapped around my Bible, almost every morning of my life. I emphasize 'almost' as I inevitably miss the starting block on occassion. It's like brushing my teeth though - I know without a doubt when I've left the house without doing so ... and it's also unpleasantly apparent to those I closely encounter. It's a simple, but not always easy, discipline that re-directs perspective and fine tunes the lenses that I wear. I call it "quiet time." But if I'm being a real pill, I'll bet God calls it a "time out!" Whatever it is, it's a special slice of 'time' that I cherish deeply. My soul needs it. It weeps without it and crawls along bruised and battered until I feed it 'time.' Sometimes I just sit and listen. I hear whispers that I journal for later reflection. Sometimes I complain. And He sits and listens and gently loves me through it. Then He asks me to make a list of all the blessings in my life and I am called to give thanks. My health has recently been altered and renders me shackeled - around my neck of all places. It's unpleasant at times when my brain is busy making it's list of to-dos and my weakened body is rebelling. The conflict results in tears, anger, frustration but eventually gives way to surrender and quiet resolve. It's like all the Sabbath days have been saved up for me and God is cashing them in for me ... on my behalf. I see God feeding me 'time' by the spoonfulls and it drips like honey. All He's asking me to do is take it in. And so I do.