I have a favorite spot for my quiet time. When I’m in Decatur it’s a chair next to a window that overlooks a huge oak tree and the corner of Camp Warren’s Lake. I can also see my office but I try to position the chair so that the office is not in view. Otherwise I end up thinking about the long list of people to call, articles to write, books to read, preparation for an upcoming weekend with a church and… you guessed it, my quiet time of prayer becomes a “thanks for this day Lord, I’m off to serve you!”
This morning, the chair was positioned just right. The stack of work on the desk was not on my mind. It was a sweet time. A time of the refreshing presence of the Lord. But it was cold. I was sitting in my shorts and a t-shirt with a quilt over my legs but I couldn’t get warm. The draft from the mobile home window was like a fan blowing cold air directly on me.
My spirit was warm. Thoughts in my mind were rich. My body was cold. As easy as you think it would have been to get up from that chair, I just couldn’t. You see, for me, moments of God’s presence don’t hit me every morning. I know it does for some and I’m confident that it’s my issue and not God. I can blame it on ministry issues, family stuff, or preoccupation with something but the truth is, I don’t always take the time to press into the presence of God. Life is too loud that sometimes all I hear is silence.
Even in the silence I know that God loves, guides and cares for me. What usually emerges on the other side of silence is a day like today when I press into the presence and stand more whole and complete. I’m not advocating for silence. I’m just saying, it happens. I don’t fear the silence for I’ve been in this long enough to know that I will pass through the strong, competent hands of the Savior when the silence is gone. It’s sweet. Once I stand on the other side of the experience, I say with the author of Romans, that ‘nothing in all creation will be able to separate me (or freeze me) from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
