|This is my iPad. There are many like it, but this one is mine…|
A thought occurred to me this morning, as I put out my bits and bobs to do my writing thing at my beloved North Office. (That’s CalbertSpeak for Biggby – the one near Celebration Cinema, and my favorite upon all the earth.)
The drill usually goes like this: Get out the writing stuff – keyboard, iPad, stand, extension cord, etc. Then plug stuff in, connect the keyboard, etc. Go get my beverage of choice. (A muffin or goodie is optional, but highly not recommended – they’re delicious, but not Calbert approved…
But once in a great while…
Well, let’s just leave it at that, shall we?)
Anyway, all the bits are bitted, the bobs are bobbing, and the event is ready to begin…
And that’s when I done thunk the thought –
“When do I take the time to invite God to this little wordfest?”
*insert sound of foam-wrapped brick bouncing off of Cal’s noggin*
Maybe this is just me, but maybe you can relate to this, especially if you’re a “first thing in the morning doing my devo thing” person:
First thing that happens in my day (Usually – sometimes there are exceptions.) is some quiet time with coffee / protein cocoa, and listening to the Daily Audio Bible. Throw in some crochet, and that’s when God has the most of my undivided attention that anybody’s ever gonna git.
It all goes downhill from there…
But what I’m wondering is, if that morning time makes me think that it kind of opens a “God Umbrella” over the whole day. Since I started the day focused on Him, that kind of means that He’s involved for the rest of the day, right? No need to stop, refocus, and specifically invite Him into whatever I’m messing around with at the moment, right? Automatic God inclusion in everything, kind of like Deus ex Autopilot.
(No, not really. Not even close. Forget I said that. Forget you heard that. *waves hand in mystical mind control gesture* That was not the phrase you were looking for. Totally.)
The wiser and slightly less patient ones out there would probably be gently but yet sternly calling out to me (In their less-than-indoor voices…), “Well, DUH! Everybody knows that’s messed up! Of course you have to refocus, invite, include – all that there stuff! What is this – Devos for Dummies??”
Nope. Not gonna say it, lest the ire of the Proofreader be invoked. She already reminds me in her totally-indoor voice that there’s way too much Calbert-bashing going on in that little noggin of mine. So, not gonna go there.
You are welcome, my Proofreader Peep.
So am I the only one that tends to forget that little thing – I need to actively refocus, to invite, to include Him in what’s going on right now, this moment, this specific activity, those wayward thoughts, that distracting vision across the room or on the screen?
Or do I see others meekly nod their heads in affirmation of getting gollywhomped by the grind of a day, and forgetting the One who wants to hold our hands through it all?
Honestly, peeps, it’s something I “know,” but don’t “remember.” I understand the need, but almost never put it into practice.
And so, I sit down to write what He wants me to write, while utterly forgetting that in order to write what He wants me to write, I probably should invite Him to sit down at this table with me, ask Him to get involved, and thank Him for His presence, even when I forget or ignore Him.
How do I expect to write His words, when I don’t make it a point to be listening?
In His faithfulness, He usually shows up, takes an active role, and jumps into my wandering thoughts. He gently guides the words, the ideas, the expression, and as my beloved says, “the maintenance gets done.” My mind becomes a tiny bit clearer, the truth and the lies are separated a bit farther apart, and I become a bit more of what He intends me to be.
But what if I turn to Him, right from the start? What if I extend the invitation?
I know this – He’ll always accept.
So, here’s the keyboard and the iPad. Here’s the table, the place, the time, and me. Please – join me, Lord. Hang out with me, as we laugh, think, consider, and as I learn a little more about You in the process.
Thanks for the times you put up with me opening a God umbrella, and for Your faithfulness in walking with me, even when I’m a bit of a dufus and ignore you. Forgive that rudeness, Lord – I’m sorry.
Thanks for your patience as I try to remember to turn to You, not just in the morning, but at all the crossroads of this day. Help me remember that though spending the very first moments of my day with You is great, spending every moment of my day with you is amazing.
Welcome to the table, Lord. Please – speak. I’m listening.