Sometimes You Just

I’d like to talk for a minute about quiet time.  If you’ve grown up in a Christian home, you probably know what “quiet time” is.  For those of you who don’t know, this is Christianese for about 15 minutes to an hour spent, usually in the morning, reading your Bible, praying, and just spending time with Jesus.  Before I go any further, I’d like to say that everything I am saying to you all, I am also saying to myself.  Because I need to hear this.

It is impossible, in ones life, to never have a morning where you wake up and just don’t want to take the time to do your quiet time.  For me, the usual excuses are, “I have so much to get done” or, the ever-more-intimidating, “I’m afraid I won’t encounter Jesus.”  I’ve had good mornings, and I’ve had bad mornings, and I’m sad to say that the bad mornings have given me a fear of more bad mornings.

I’m here to tell you (and me) this.  When you wake up in the morning, open up your Bible.  Force yourself to step outside of time.  Don’t look at your clock, don’t look at your phone.  Invite your Father into your space.  And if you’re afraid that you won’t feel Him, just remember: He delights in YOU (Psalm 18:19).  So even if you don’t feel Him as strongly as you want, remember that He feels you.  He listens to you.  He loves hearing you talk to Him.  He loves to talk to you, even if it takes a while for you to hear.

Even if you can’t bring yourself to pick up your Bible… even if you can’t find the courage to pray… just sit with Him and listen.  Sit with Him and let Him calm your doubts.  Because His peace surpasses all understanding.

Sometimes you just need to read.  Sometimes you just need to talk.  Sometimes you just need to sit and listen.

Father, Abba, friend.  Let me have the courage, the patience, the faith, and the discipline to spend this time with you every morning.  I know that even when I don’t treasure it as much as I should, you do. I trust you, I know that you love me.  On the good days and on the bad days, I promise to sit with you in faith and in quiet.

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7 responses

  1. Well said Sweetie…Here’s a little poem that I’ve saved over the years.

    “His hands were small and red on a crisp morn in Bethlehem….His hands were strong, calloused and scarred as He fashioned a new chair for home….His hands were confident, gentle and firm as He touched the sick and lame….His hands were broken, bleeding and bruised as He gave His life away. His hands are reaching out to mankind drawing, beckoning and holding us close to the heart of God.”

    You are so right; He’s always waiting patiently for us to meet with Him.

    (What matters most is whose hands we’re in.)

    Love you, Dad

  2. So . . . this was written a while ago, but I’m really sorry for anyone who read it between now and then because it was written for me.
    It was exactly what I needed to hear during this season of my life.
    Thank you for your words, or, rather, for speaking The Word.

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