This summer I lost my rhythm.
During the school year, I was so good about (finally) getting up and spending time in the Bible every day. It wasn’t something I had to think about or try to work into my schedule, it was just there every week day morning at 5:30 and–thankfully–a little later on the weekends.
But then summer break arrived and I got all off kilter. I was averaging for June about four days a week, sometimes in the morning, sometimes later in the day. Occasionally even before bed. I couldn’t find a rhythm. Then July hit and I was gone so much. I traveled with my Bible and devotional book; I dreamed of sitting on a mountain in Colorado or at the beach in Michigan, reading, studying, and praying.
It was going to be so spiritual, you guys.
I got a few of those Hallmark devo moments in, but not as many days as I would have liked. Then about three weeks ago as I prepared to return to school, I found my rhythm again. Ironically, it was in my office at my desk first thing in the morning just like it was before. Weirdest thing ever.
As I cozied up to my daily quiet time again, I could almost feel my soul sighing. I could sense things that had been off, settle back into place. I was warmer and calmer and quieter in a way that had been missing for a while. It was almost like God was saying, Welcome back. Let’s do this every day. You’re better when you do. We’re better when you do.
And I was like Okay, God, let’s do this. Then we fist bumped and read something in Habakkuk. (OKAY, so we didn’t really fist bump, but I did read something from Habakkuk. Have you ever read that book before? It’s pretty crazy. Habakkuk is super sassy and says things to God that other prophets probably wouldn’t have had the guts to say. I like that guy. A lot.)
So I’m back. Not just some days a week, but alllll the days of the week.
Things are clearer when I start my morning in my Bible. Things aren’t necessarily easier, but I’m more patient. People are still dumb, but I handle them differently. I get to glimpse more of what God sees when he looks at my kids, my husband, and my students when I ask for guidance and compassion for the day. I worry less. I argue less. I love better. I am kinder and gentler with myself and with others.
What I’m noticing about my walk–this desire to be closer to God–is that sometimes I’m lost and sometimes I’m found. My routine ebbs and flows. I’m on it for weeks, months even, and then things fall off again. I’m never completely done with our relationship, never forget it wholly, but I forget parts. I forget the goodness that comes from my daily quiet time. I forget the peace that passes understanding when I invite God into my life first thing in the morning.
When I’m not beginning my day in the Word, I forget things I’ve learned the day before. I forget truths I’ve learned last week. I forget about the unchanging love that He offers me all the time. I forget about his grace and mercy and goodness. I forget about Him and focus on myself too much.
Isn’t being found great? It’s less lonely, less isolating, less fearful. It doesn’t make things magically flawless and stress free, but it makes things manageable. Being found makes my burdens less. I love being found.
So why, oh why, do I keep getting lost?