I wake about 5 minutes before my alarm goes off and I just lay there. The Mister tries to pull me up against him as he settles in for his second sleep. A soft gray glow streams in from my window I hear Baby Girl getting ready for school, and I carefully extract myself from The Mister’s big arm. Sliding off the bed quietly so as not to wake him, or the puppybabies, I go to find some hot coffee. Somewhere between the steaming cup of coffee and the rest of chapter seven of John, I feel a pull. An unspoken urgent pull to hurry up and get my running shoes on. I lace them up, pull on my sweatshirt and running pants and head outside.
I start down the driveway, still feeling the pull, stronger now, the almost drawing in my heart. I’m not sure where it comes from but I think I might have an idea, so as my feet begin the rhythmic pattern of my morning run, I begin my morning prayer, rather a litany of requests began to pour from my heart. I am stopped dead in my tracks.
I am pulled here. Into His presence. I stop and immediately tears form in my eyes. He has called me here to talk.
“Be quiet Child. I am here. I already know your every need, Today I will talk and you will listen.”
So we begin our slow jog, me listening, Him talking.
He reminds me that He watched me the entire time I slept last night. I was so precious to Him that He nudged me awake at 3:30 just to whisper to me He was near. I remember that moment, this morning and I smile. He never leaves me.
He has plans for me that I do not know or have the capacity to imagine. He has written my love name, that secret name He calls only me, inside His hand. As the sun bursts through the trees, He open his hand and shows me glimpses of the holy script in His palm.
He tells me that I need not worry about where I worship, or what my ministry is. He wants my heart. He wants me to find joy in Him, not a place or time. Because He is omnipresent, and does not have any use for time.
By this time, I am walking, because sometimes, when He speaks, it causes you to stop, The beauty is so great that you shut your human eyes as you open your spiritual ones. In that moment His Word is alive and you begin to see the depth of Romans 8. It overwhelms the senses. My human hands are raised to a very real Father . There, on the side of the road, I am alone, yet covered on every side by my Father. And I cry. Because really, there is no other response when He speaks to His daughter.
“I missed you Father”
” I never left, and I’m so glad that you are back here, close in My arms and in My lap.”
Lavish love on a Thursday morning.