Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Why Time With God is A Very Fluid Concept Right Now

This morning, I was going to turn over a new leaf. Or rather, a dry brittle leaf that's been turned over more times than Jack & Jill would have had the hill they fell down been Mt. Washington itself.  I was going to start my day with God. You know, that glorious idea of a "Morning Devotional," or "Quiet Time?" I woke at 7:20am with visions of a breakfast date with Jesus. Here's what it was going to look like:

I was going to get up, greet my family members and pray with David before he left for work. Then I was going to make myself my standard espresso with chocolate caramel creamer and for a special treat, a grilled blueberry bagel with cinnamon neufchatel. Playing my Cool Praise station on Pandora, I was going to finally get around to starting a devotional journal by Luci Swindoll that has sat on my shelf for long enough for me to forget when I received it but short enough I still remember who gave it to me. I was going to cuddle up on the couch with Christ and start my day right, for once in my life thank you very much.

Here's how it really went down:

I get up, greet my family members and pray with David before he leaves for work. I find the book I want and crank up the praise. Then we realize our godson, Landon, is about to walk or drive by on his way to his very first day of Kindergarten. This is far too big a momentous occasion to sit idly back and miss it! Quickly we make a sign, "GO LANDON," and run outside to cheer him on. (I realize now, our sign could have been taken a couple different ways, but luckily I don't think his teacher will get to hidden meanings and innuendos on day one of English.) As he and his mom walk by, Vivi and I cheer and wave and I fight back the tears because I am the emotional equivalent to maple syrup.

Back inside. Forty minutes have passed since my feet first touched the floor. But I still have hope. I can DO this!

To the kitchen to make breakfast. While waiting for my espresso and bagel to be ready I multitask and fill the dishwasher and get it going. When I go to grab one of my adorable French espresso cups, I drop the matching spoon. I spend five minutes on searching for the pieces, which I am hoping I can superglue together, but later. Instead I must find a "safe" place to put them where they won't get lost or cut someone. The music stand of the piano looks a likely candidate.

Ahhh. Finally, I sit down on the couch, anxious to inspect the underside of that Quiet Time Leaf once again. But as it turns out, Bo needs some attention. His endearing method of communicating that looks something akin to a gigantic fruit fly buzzing around my lap, my head, and of course my book. Being the Super Spiritual Mom that I am, I of course yell at him that "I am trying to have my time with God right now, please stop!!!" 

T + 90 minutes since blast off. Back to my book. I've managed to skim one whole page and almost answer an entire question when the phone rings. It's my friend needing last-minute childcare because their sitter was a no-show. "Of course you can bring them over, " I promise as I stumble to my feet and begin a mad dash up the stairs to my bedroom to find something clean and decent to wear, as getting dressed was supposed to happen AFTER my quiet time. Then I race to the kitchen and dining room to make sure the spaces most prone to being very UN-kid-friendly are a smidge more child-proof - knives put away-check, milk back in the fridge-check, cabinets closed-check, tempting treats out of reach-check. Even though Meme still needs her morning pills, I figure I better wait until after the children arrive or I might make the mistake of being in her bedroom when I should be at the door, death grip on our dog's collar as 5 children file in. So instead I sit back down to "enjoy" a chorus of "Hosanna" while I scarf down the remainder of my now-cold espresso and dried out bagel. As my last bites pass my lips the phone rings, but when I go to find the phone I see the family has arrived, so I let it go to voice mail.

*         *         *

In the midst of the last 3 hours I have managed to sneak in moments of typing this up in between at least a half-dozen phone calls, a visit and cup of tea with a friend, addressing a boo-boo, reading a book, doing a puzzle, getting seven snacks, policing the dog away from the children countless times, administering medication to my mother-in-law, helping a 3 year old go potty, and making lunch.

It's 12:30. I'd say I am going to attempt a lunch date with Jesus, but reality has lowered my expectations somewhat. If Jesus wants to hang with me today, he better be wearing running shoes.

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