Let me hear of your unfailing love
Show me where to walk,
for I give myself to you.
O God, You are my God,
Early will I seek You,
My soul thirsts for You
in a dry and thirsty land
where there is no water.
For as long as I can remember I have had a morning obstacle.
Actually more than one obstacle with a common denominator packaged in
a space of time called morning.
I am not prone to walking up naturally during the first glimmer of
daylight without aid of an alarm.
I marvel at those who can’t sleep after 5 am.
Yet there is something about rising to greet the dawn which is
Not only has early morning been a struggle but I have hardly ever succeeded at making exercise
and devotional time occupy the same time span.
I am prone to extremes and one not both would win out.
It didn’t matter if devotions or exercise landed in the time slot,
I would spend the rest of the day trying to chase the other one down.
Often I never caught up.
I look back at my 20’s and 30’s and although my pant size was much smaller,
my soul was lean as well.
For the last 6 weeks, I have been training with a friend to walk a half-marathon on
the 4th of July.
This challenge has meant walking can’t be hit or miss.
It has also entailed rising unbearably early in the morning to get long walks finished before
life calls or it is too hot.
Each week, it has gotten easier.
Each morning, I am tired.
This is just a plain fact.
Each morning, I am better for sitting up and pulling off the covers.
My most frequent route is very popular by other walkers, runners and cyclists.
The other morning, I rose very early and for most of my walk, I was alone.
Or so I thought.
I saw hummingbirds.
I chuckled as I watched two birds dive bomb a squirrel.
I gasped as I nearly tripped over a chicken who was doing its morning pecking
too close to the sidewalk.
Maybe I was too close to them 🙂
It is rare to be shrouded in silence as the city seemed to be sleeping in.
The only sound arising from sunrise, my breathing and steps.
Do you remember how Eric Liddell described running?
When he ran, he felt God’s glory.
I feel the same.
The morning has become a sanctuary of God’s glory.
I lace my shoes.
I sit in a chair and eat my spiritual food.
With each passing day, I am less concerned about the right, perfect, best time to
be with God.
I just need time in His sanctuary.
I am learning to exchange Helen’s deeply entrenched rules for
I am beholding God’s glory in
a fire pit,
a sky of blue
anyway He chooses to reveal.
So I have looked for You
in the sanctuary,
to see your power and your glory.
I wonder if I have mistakenly tried
to offer myself as a living sacrifice by what
I deemed acceptable.
Always imagining a giant hand ascending earthward to check a box
marked pass or fail.
I think God just says,
To which I say,
I am here.
I offer myself to you.
Thank you for the
sanctuary of your presence
unhindered by walls or sidewalks.
Your glory simply is.
Because Your loving-kindness is
better than life.
My lips shall praise You,
Thus I will bless You while I live;
I will lift up my hands in Your name.
Psalm 63: 3,4