In the morning, LORD, you hear my voice;
in the morning I lay my requests before you
and wait expectantly.
- Psalm 5:3
In my house, mornings have mixed reviews. I LOVE mornings, but my husband and oldest daughter are night owls, and then there's my youngest who avoids sleep at all costs and by default joins me in my early mornings. There's just something about the start of a new day—a freshness waiting to be filled with experiences, challenges, and opportunities. This time often begins with a warm cup (or two) of coffee, my Bible, and an open conversation with God. It's become a routine that grounds me before the day unfolds.
In these quiet mornings, I find myself doing most of the talking. I talk about my problems, the struggles of friends and family, and the uncertainties of the day ahead. I must confess, my listening skills leave much to be desired. I pour out my heart, but how often do I sit back and listen?
Last week, I was presented with a challenge that seemed simple: to sit quietly with God for six minutes. Why six? I don't know, but the specificity intrigued me. So I tried it, and, to be honest, I didn't hear anything. No grand revelations or divine whispers filled the silence. It was just me, sitting still, feeling the weight of the quiet.
In many ways, this experience reminded me of training for a race. When you're preparing for a marathon or any long-distance event, the hours of training don't always feel like progress is being made—especially on those tough days when a run that should be easy feels like an uphill battle. You persist, believing that the consistency and dedication will eventually pay off, even if the progress is invisible at times.
Similarly, I believe that seeking God and taking moments to sit quietly with Him is like training for a spiritual marathon. I may not hear Him every time, but I trust that He's there, listening and working in ways I can't yet see. It's about building a relationship, one that doesn't always require an abundance of words.
Just like with a good friend, sometimes being in each other's presence is enough.
So, I will continue to seek God and carve out those moments of stillness, expecting to hear from Him when the time is right. I trust that He will reveal something meaningful, and until then, I find comfort in simply being with Him.
Comments