Taking Time

"Why must people kneel down to pray? If I really wanted to pray I'll tell you what I'd do. I'd go out into a great big field all alone or into the deep, deep woods, and I'd look up into the sky--up--up--up--into that lovely blue sky that looks as if there was no end to its blueness. And then I'd just feel a prayer." ~Anne of Green Gables


Today, I feel like Anne. I am longing to go out into the middle of a big field spotted with wildflowers or the quiet of the woods that somehow feels sacred and just...be. I've often thought that nature, that the world in itself, is the perfect sanctuary...the perfect tabernacle. Every element reflects the nature of God Himself--what better place to find His presence?

I wish for a time without the noise of the news or the nagging knowledge that the floor needs mopping or the clock's insistence on ticking its way to the next scheduled errand...I wish to sit and breathe, to wait on God, to listen for nothing but His small voice. There's such value in waiting sometimes...but in our lives, there's no room for waiting. Even if we're forced to do so, like in a school pick-up line or a doctor's office, we're multi-tasking away...talking on cell phones, texting, paying bills, listening to the iPod...I'm the worst for this. If I get a spare minute, I actually feel guilty if I don't 'use' it.

The only down time I feel okay about is that special time at the end of every day, when I'm tucking the kids into bed...telling them stories, listening to them talk about their day, listening to their prayers. In those moments, I feel the best connection with them, because it's dark and there are no distractions--it's just us, just our little family, really communicating.

And, today, I'm thinking to myself--wouldn't I feel so much better if I took this time out for God? He deserves that kind of devotion and I need that kind of true communion with Him, so that I can keep my peace in the day to day course of life that is so unpredictable. Logistically, I can't run away to do this. I can't find a tiny chapel in the Alps empty of everything but an altar, I can't sit alone on a beach, I can't venture into the woods for hours of meditation and meandering.

But I can breathe in this gorgeous October weather as the kids play outside. I can put aside Fox News while I fold laundry and focus instead on His face...I can allow His presence to infiltrate all of the facets of my life. I just need to remember that my time is made up of what I put into it...so even if I can't run away from all obligation to sit at His feet, He will dwell within me. Nature reflects His glory, but our bodies and minds were created to contain His glory.

So while I'm hanging out here, longing to spend time with Him, He's right outside--waiting to be invited in.

Here's a reminder for me and for you--don't forget to open the door. Our great big field of peace can be in the front seat of the car, the den, or...you know. Just wherever we are.