Windows in my study face east. Perfect for morning devotions. Even very early, light from the street filters through Venetian blinds. Squinting my eyes, I can imagine the window frames form a cross. An interesting focal point even though I know the Cross of consequence stood on a knoll in Israel, not in a quiet, air-conditioned, newly dusted house in Temple, Texas.
Growing up as the daughter of Christ-following parents and learning my Catechism in a church with solid Biblical foundations, the necessity for daily devotions is practically part of my DNA.
I don’t wish to imply great piety on my part—my motivation to excel in Catechism classes was my determination to do better than my best friend, Mary, whose Dad was the pastor.
Still, tightly woven into my brain waves is the conviction I should have daily devotions.
Should. There’s that word again.
Lately a phrase runs through my mind: “Flip the script.” Especially as concerns “should.”
This season of life affords me the freedom to take as much “quiet time” as I want. As I flip the script, I move from getting the obligation of devotions over with so I can go on to whatever else it is I want to do, to settling in my plumb-wore-out easy chair, contemplating what the Cross has done for me.
For me! The Creator of the Universe, the One who bared his holy arm and called into being the earth, the skies, the seas and all that in them dwell, Almighty God is making Himself known to me! I almost can’t stand it.
As I sit there, His love, His fathomless billows of love wash over me, swamp me, and in my Spirit, I sense His chuckle. I know, it seems impossible, but I believe it amuses Him to sweep me off my feet, to remind me of how His ways, His “shoulds” are all for my good.
Here’s the bonus: When I do take time for morning devotions, when I do what I should, my whole day goes better. Seriously, everything in my day goes better. Isn’t that interesting?