the following article is copied from a blog i read on a regular basis.
‘If we never take time, how can we ever have time?” The Merovingian asked Neo in the Matrix trilogy.
I can’t just talk about having personal quiet communion with God, I have to plan it into my day, or it’s not going to happen. And if I want this to become more adopted in my life, I need to be comfortable developing this habit in my own settings. So, I went to an empty room at my church, locked the door behind me with a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door for any busy custodians and quietly sat on the carpeted floor with a lit candle in front of me.
As my eyes closed, I picked a focus word: Available. It has been becoming more and more relevant in my journey as of late. How can I be more available to God? Not as a tool, or a teacher or a busy-bee, but just as an accessible disciple? How can I be more available to the people in my life? Not as a mentor, or a preacher or a distributor of biblical advice, but simply how can I be more obtainable for their needs? Can I sit still and wait on Him? (Psa 27:14) Can I be a soldier in waiting? Can I be a sentry alert and ready? Otherwise, if I am not available and waiting for commands from my Lord, how will I hear Him if I am too busy following my own decrees?
At first, I fought off anxiousness. “Here I am Lord, available.” I seemed to be thinking. I wanted a theophany or a vision or a feeling similar to John’s revelation. Perhaps I felt that simply by creating the environment, I could create the experience. I could feel my spirit becoming restless. But, this did not seem to fit the idea of being available to God. Was I only available to God, if He was available to me? Why do I feel my relationship with God is contingent upon anything I design? If the Lord said, “Wait here” and pointed to my seat, who am I to become fretful for my orders or apprehensive for His return? My duty is to be present; my obligation is to be offered.
As I sat there, I began to be aware of the spirit of waiting. I was waiting for this moment to pass. I was waiting for the clock to tell me it was over. I was waiting for a personal communion with God. I was in a character of impatience, I was not available. I shook my head and tried to refocus. “I’m waiting.” I heard.
‘That’s true,’ I quickly thought. I had an image of a child sitting in the corner with the extended finger of a parent behind the words, ‘You sit there and think about what you have done.’ No, I was not being punished, but I was being reminded: God waits for me all of the time. God waits for me here in this classroom while I am running around the church hanging signs and getting things ready for Sunday. God waits for me in quiet meditation as I busily teach and hurry through lessons and bible studies. God waits for me in scripture as I race through homework and personal devotions before I collapse in sleep. God waits for me to realize… God waits for me to come…. God waits for me to awaken… God waits for me to see… God waits for me to hear… God waits for me patiently.
Am I as patient? I want to hurry up and graduate, I want my students to hurry up and grow. I want to hurry up and get a full time ministry, I want to hurry up and actualize my future. I want to hurry up and have a child, I want to hurry up and conquer my sins. I want to treat my relationship with God, the way I treat my life here on Earth. I want to get to the next stage quickly. I want to pass the next car. I want to take another step forward in line. I want to progress.
Waiting feels like wasting.
Availability feels like abandon.
Sometimes when we stop to take a breath, we focus on the mountain and are disheartened at the remaining cliff yet to scale. ‘I’m wasting my time,’ we think. ‘I should be climbing.’ But rests and breaths are important for life. They serve a function that although unseen is crucial. My function is to be a disciple, a learner, a sitter and a listener. I receive my climbing orders as the Lord doles them out. My heart and mind and spirit rest in a state of availability. My rest begins with my words, “I am here.” And I sit and wait for his words to mirror mine.
i resonate with what he's saying and try to do that--to make space for God. but it always seems to be on my schedule...i am the person looking at the huge mountain and thinking it's insurmountable. i am the person who thinks the stopping is a waste of time. maybe if i stop i won't ever climb again. so i'm brought back to that same old reminder that God calls us to let go of whatever is comfort to us. and for me it's never stopping. Lord, please let me stop.