Another golden day in June here in tropical Medina. Dry air and cool breeze slips into the bedroom encouraging me to luxuriate in the pleasure. All that is missing is morning coffee. Morning prayer. Morning scripture. It will be out on the deck for me, beneath the pale green sun umbrella, stripped of its vibrant color by years of bright sun. While I try to be diligent, the truth is that other things take priority and guarantee that this ritual is stolen, pushed away, shouldered out so that my day begins with kinks often not worked out until early afternoon. It’s a choice and a discipline at which I often fail.
Much of my life is filled with attention to scripture and prayer. I confess that when I need answers my first source has been the support and solace of friends. But given the challenges that have come to me, I discovered that while friends are constant, this is not the place to go. On my knees in prayer puts me where I belong. I used to do all the talking and none of the listening. It took some time to realize that my conversations with God require allowing Him talk time. The more I practiced the quicker it came. So hard it is for me to quiet myself to the level that allows me to hear the Holy Spirit speak. That voice wells up from somewhere so deep inside that I had no idea it was there. The still, small voice, so gentle, so specific, has been an unknown for much of my life.
As a child I was schooled in an orphanage learning about the Lord, so I was familiar with the tools of religion ….prayer, study, worship….but it was a long time before I realized the relationship I would have with Him would only grow when I discovered how much of me desired it. With that in place I was open to hear, to participate, to ask the how and why and where that become the fertile field for faith growth. Wanting that is the essential need.
I’m clearly not a passive person. Gearing down is a challenge for me. “Be still and know” is a mantra just to hold me in place. I thought it was a fault. No. God uses whoever will let Him. We are all so different. I don’t fit the typical temperament assigned to believers. He knows. So He doesn’t assign me to tasks that don’t fit. It is important to recognize and apply the particular gifts I hold to be effective for Him. Like a dancer, I seek my medium. I have to just forget ballet. Or ballroom. While that is beautiful, graceful, attractive, my dance is closer to tap, jive, jitterbug. Once I understood that I became a better dance partner for Him. Keeping the pattern. Learning the steps. Listening to the music.
What’s your dance?