It isn’t usually this romantic.
Generally it is about 6am, and I’m wearing an old t-shirt, stretched out yoga pants and my copper framed glasses. I whisper hello before I even lift my head off the pillow. I tell him I love him and that I am glad for another day to be his. I enjoy the thought thoroughly before I even sit up.
I sneak downstairs to make a pot of coffee, certain that there will be great enjoyment ahead. Connecting. Searching. Pursuing.
I sit curled up in a blanket and offer him my time, my mind and my heart. They are his to direct as a water course. And often I simply wait for the sleepy fog to clear before I move towards him. I try to remind him every day that I’m desperate for him.
I need you.
I can’t do anything without you.
Please visit with me today.
Here. Now. Speak.
And then I lovingly open His word on my lap. Awed again that I could possibly hold a word that lives and breathes. And I meditate. Savor. Linger. And feel the pierce of the sword that reminds me that there is still shaping to do within me. He is faithful to remove the dead, debreed my wound and offer healing balm.
I breathe breath prayers and He heals me from guilt, shame, selfishness.
He is mine, and even still, He judges my thoughts and intentions and the writer says
“There is no creature hidden from His sight,
but all things are open and laid bare
to the eyes of Him.”
Even as He wounds, greater still, He heals. I only have to remind myself of the changes in me to be certain that He deeply loves. This hand with scalpel is working for my good and so I lean into the word without recoil.
“Therefore, let us draw near with confidence
to the throne of grace,
so that we may receive mercy
to help in the time of need.”
This has been our way together, our intimate meeting, and I say again thank you for His word.
I am not worthy of his time or attention and I am grateful and feel full. I am loved in return.
Every so often someone asks me what has helped me to grow the most in my relationship with Christ. And I can say without hesitation that is has only been since I committed to daily time in His word that I’ve experienced continual marked growth. Is it always so romantic? Umm, no, not always. This past fall I experienced the darkest of days since coming to know my Savior. Even still, I fought to draw near to His word. While the anxiety I experienced was nearly paralyzing, I knew my healing would come from His word and I wrestled with Him there. On the darkest days, Mike would read to me and I would cry, and try to agree with every word. I felt the struggle for my mind very keenly in those stormy times.
It has been five and a half years since I committed to daily scripture reading, before that time it had been several times a week for most of my adult life. Don’t get me wrong, anytime in His word is good time, but now I fully understand a day without His word is one in which I’ve starved myself. Are there seasons where the meetings have been brief? Yes, one hundred times, yes. But He is faithful and ordains our seasons and knows our hearts. Let’s feast on His word, He is always available for the nourishing.
Photo credit to my Mom. I love her so.