About a month ago I had the pleasure of attending the Breathe Writers Conference in Grand Rapids, MI.
When I got home from the conference, I was challenged to find “my rhythm” or, in other words, a specific and consistent time of day to sit down, gear up and write. As a mom of two young children, my writing time is sandwiched in here, or squeezed in there, and is sporadic, at best.
Hopped up on magical conference “mojo,” I decided to try, for one week, to find my rhythm from 5-7 am. (That’s right, A.M.) My husband laughed at my plan, but I was determined to show him, and me, that I could do it.
The first two days went great. I set my alarm. I (rather eagerly) got out of bed. I tip-toed through a sleeping house to my writing desk, and for two UNINTERUPTED hours I worked on my writing. (Go me!)
Then came Wednesday.
My alarm buzzed at my 5:00 am.
5:10. Buzz. Snooze.
5:20. Buzz. Snooze.
“30 minutes won’t hurt me,” I dreamily reasoned with the clock.
At 6:25 I was roused once again, this time by my three-year-old daughter, Aletheia, drowsy and looking for mommy.
One important drawback to my 5-7 writing time is that it coincides with what has become a ritual in our home. It doesn’t happen every day, but once or twice a week, Aletheia and I love to start our day with a morning snuggle.
As I stayed in bed, wrestling with my alarm, my sleep, and my goals, the thought occurred to me, “It sure would be nice to stay in bed this morning and maybe get a chance to snuggle with Aletheia.” Was I being lazy? Maybe, but as Aletheia crawled into my arms, I knew I was right where I needed to be.
“I was so hoping you would come and be with me,” I whispered in her ear. She smiled, nodded her golden head and drifted back to sleep. I slipped back to sleep myself, but not before I heard God whisper in my ear, “That is exactly how I feel about you.”
“I was so hoping you would come and be with me.” These are the same words I hear Him saying to me, whenever I pause and take the time to crawl into His arms.
At the writers conference I attended one of the speakers talked about the spiritual discipline of silence, of taking time to simply BE in the presence of God. No questions, no requests, no prayers spoken, or verses read. Just Him and me, together.
At first I resisted the idea. To be honest, it sounded a little crazy to me. Something reserved for monks and super spiritual folk. But the more I considered it, the more it made sense.
When I’m with Aletheia and we’re snuggling at the start of our day or at the end of our night, so often nothing is said. It is enough just to be together, wrapped in love and the comfort of each other. I’ve experienced similar moments with my husband and even a close friend or two.
Doesn’t it make perfect, holy, divine sense to experience this with God?
Once again, I feel challenged to find my rhythm. Not just in writing, but in seeking silence with God.