A prayer life rich with meaning and significance doesn’t just happen. So if you’re expecting some kind of divine intervention into your oh-so-busy schedule, don’t hold your breath. Planning ahead to set aside a specific time and place to meet with your heavenly Father is must-do if you’re ever going to be consistent.
Morning Glory
You’re probably not going to like this, but hear me out. I used to think it didn’t matter what time of day you set aside to meet with the Lord so long as you do it. Now I know better. The later in the day, the more likely the interruptions and distractions. But what finally changed my thinking was this realization: Did I really want to give God the leftover crumbs of my day? He deserves the best. When might that be? Come on, now. Say it with me: In the morning. See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?
I should probably fess up. I wasn’t always a morning person. Not even close. That all changed a few years ago when I had to go back to work. As I mentioned in chapter 1, I hadn’t worked outside the home for almost fifteen years. Just the thought of getting back into the everyday grind of a job was enough to make this grown woman freak. But I landed a good job (okay, my sister pulled some strings for me) and gradually eased back into the rat race.
The only drawback? I had to be there at six. In the morning. With a half-hour commute, I had to set my alarm for 4:30. In the morning. I always made it to work on time, but with each passing day it felt like I would get up, get dressed, and drive downtown on auto-pilot. Eight hours later, I’d drive home on auto-pilot (don’t act so righteous—sometimes you do it too). By the time I got home and fed the family, I was beat.
I quickly learned that my brain was toast by seven in the evening. This was around the time I experienced my meltdown, which led to my challenge to God (see chapters 1 and 2). As part of that daring, scandalous ultimatum, I began setting my alarm for 3:45 in the morning. That allowed me ample time to get dressed, have an early breakfast (coffeecoffeecoffeecoffee), then spend a minimum of half an hour with the Lord each morning. I won’t lie—it was hard at first. Never had I hated anything as much as the sound of that blasted alarm clock. But I was also desperate. I knew that in order to keep my half of the bargain to meet with Him each morning, I had no choice but to drag my sleepy carcass out of the sack.
With each passing day, then each passing week, it got easier. I’d established a routine that I slowly, slowly began to cherish. You have no idea what a monumental change of attitude that was for me. In the quiet of the morning, long before the sun came up or anyone else in the family awoke, I had the privilege of unhurried, uninterrupted time with my Lord and Savior.
Someone once said that God waits patiently for us, longing to spend time with us. I’m a very visual person. Tell me something and I’ll forget it in five seconds. Show me something and it sticks. When I read a novel, I actually see the story played out like a movie in my head. When I set goals, I have to see the end result by picturing what it might look like. So when I began to think about these morning appointments with God, a very specific visualization popped into my head. Stay with me, now. This will probably sound a bit daft, but I have a point.
In my mind, I saw myself coming downstairs and finding Jesus waiting for me there in the family room off to the right at the bottom of the stairs. (Not that my house has a family room at the bottom of the stairs. In fact, to be honest, it actually looked more like Ward Cleaver’s study in Leave It to Beaver. And for the record, it scares me to think that you might not even know who Ward Cleaver is. I warned you this was weird.) But in this particular imaginary room, two loveseats face each other in the middle of the room with a coffee table between them. Jesus is sitting there, His legs stretched out, feet propped up with ankles crossed on the coffee table. He holds a steaming mug of coffee in His hands. When I enter the room, He looks up with a warm, genuine smile that seems to say, “Diane! I’m so glad you’re here. I was hoping we’d have some time together this morning.” I take a seat across from Him and reach for the mug of coffee He offers me . . .
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t view that cup of coffee He’s prepared for me as an expectation on my part that He’s there to serve me. Rather, I see it as symbolic of His expectation that I’ll be joining Him. He’s prepared for our time together. This puts the ball in my court. Will I make time for Him? Or will I ignore His presence there, waiting for me?
Listen to what Anne Graham Lotz has to say on this matter of expectation:
Have you ever considered that you have a divine appointment when you get up early for your quiet time of prayer and meditation on His Word? . . . That Jesus is patiently, personally waiting to meet with you there? . . . What a difference it would make in our attitude of expectancy and our habit of consistency if we truly wrapped our hearts around the knowledge that each is a divine appointment, that Jesus Himself is waiting to meet with us.1
As I sit across from Him, I’m so utterly grateful to find Him here, I’m almost speechless. Then we begin to talk. . . . I hang on His every word, warmed by the depth of His love and compassion for me. I’m filled with such awe and wonder, so bewildered that He has made time for me—for such a wretch like me—when I so rarely make time for Him. And I’m driven to my knees, asking His forgiveness. Eventually, He dries my tears, helps me back to my seat, then He asks—of all things—what’s on my heart this morning.
I honestly have no earthly idea where that visual came from, but that’s probably because it wasn’t an earthly idea at all. Think about it. God made me. He wired me a certain way, giving me certain unique gifts and characteristics that combine to make me who I am—including this outrageous visually-oriented tendency. It only makes sense that He could have put this scene into my head as a way to court my heart back to Him. In other words, He gets me because He made me.
This visualization has had an amazing effect on me, always reminding me not to miss the blessing of our morning visits. If the day gets away from me, I picture myself flying down those stairs, rushing toward the front door. Then I catch a glimpse of Him still there in the family room, still waiting for me, and I ask myself if there’s anything more important than spending a few moments with my Jesus. The answer is always the same: nothing. Nothing is more important.
I know what you’re thinking. Fine, Diane. Mornings work for you. That’s great. But my mornings are impossible. Any attempt at prayer that early would be a waste of time. I just can’t think clearly until much later in the day. (I won’t tell your boss. Your secret’s safe with me.) I understand and I sympathize. And if you can tell me that your evening or bedtime prayer time works for you, that you genuinely experience God in those remaining moments of your day, then more power to you.
Want to hear something funny? After I left my job, I rarely set my alarm yet I continued to wake up long before dawn. I could never “sleep in” like I used to. It didn’t matter what time I went to bed, I’d still wake up at four or five. For the longest time, it frustrated me, this inability to sleep until a normal hour. Then it hit me. My inner-alarm clock was helping me keep those early morning prayer times I’d learned to cherish. As if God was nudging me, helping me to stay faithful to our morning visits. What I had seen as a curse turned out to be a tremendous blessing.
Okay, fine, you say. Enough with the morning campaign already. Sorry. I guess I’m like someone who quits smoking and becomes a No-Smoking Nazi around others who light up. But I’m convinced that morning is the optimal time for more than just a passing prayer. Here’s a thought.
Do not have your concert first and tune your instruments afterward. Begin the day with God. Begin the day with the Word of God and prayer, and get first of all into harmony with Him. —James Hudson Taylor2
What a great quote. It’s even more meaningful when you learn about the man who said it. In the late nineteenth century, James Hudson Taylor became the first Christian missionary to the interior of China where he founded the China Inland Mission. He ministered there for more than fifty-one years
and eventually set up more than 205 mission stations staffed with 849 missionaries. Thousands of Chinese came to know Christ as a direct result of his efforts there. His passion for the Chinese still serves as living proof of what God can do in our world if only we’ll open our hearts and lives to be used by Him.
Still not convinced about this whole morning thing? Don’t take my word for it. Take a look at a few verses from the Bible (italics mine).
Morning by morning, O LORD, you hear my voice;
morning by morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation.
—Psalm 5:3
But I will sing of your strength,
in the morning I will sing of your love;
for you are my fortress, my refuge in times of trouble.
—Psalm 59:16
But I cry to you for help, O LORD;
in the morning my prayer comes before you.
—Psalm 88:13
Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love,
that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.
—Psalm 90:14
I rise before dawn and cry for help;
I have put my hope in your word.
—Psalm 119:147
I’ve stated my case. I’ve even thrown in the big guns of scripture. But in the end, the decision is up to you. No matter when you do it, just do it.