I have found that I have fallen victim to a disease. It has been caused by a personal accessory, and while the disease may not be fatal it definitely seems to suck life out of you. The disease is called “time.” Recently I have been spinning out of control, like a top knocked off of it’s axis. Tonight I climbed into bed, and read a book. When I turned off the light I laid in the dark thinking, “Tomorrow I should get up early and write.” It’s been a long while since I’ve written…I mean really wrote my heart out. So closing my eyes, I realized that my disease had developed even more. I didn’t have time. Once again I was scheduling my time of quiet with God, to a later date. God help me, this sickness is taking over my mind. OS Guinness wrote about “time” in a book that I’ve been reading, and he quoted a Filipino proverb that goes, “Westerners are people with gods on their wrists.” Going on, he quoted a Kenyan saying also, that goes, “Westerners have watches but no time. Africans have time but no watches.” So peeling my eyes back to look at my empty ceiling, I took my watch off and stumbled over to my computer. Here I am now, a little tired, but it seems that with every word I write I feel more alive. The dark is quiet, and hopeful. Hopeful, not necessarily that anything spectacular is going to happen per se, but simply that I get to hammer out keys on my laptop while thinking about why I’m glad to be breathing right now.

This sort of reminds me of a passage in Song of Songs of the Bible. The bride was laying in bed late at night, and all of the sudden the bridegroom came to her window and whispers through her window frame:

“Arise, my darling,
my beautiful one, and come with me.
See! The winter is past;
the rains are over and gone.
Flowers appear on the earth;
the season of singing has come,
the cooing of doves
is heard in our land.
The fig tree forms its early fruit;
the blossoming vines spread their fragrance.
Arise, come, my darling;
my beautiful one, come with me.”

It reminds me of now, not because I’m hungry for fig newtons or have an urge for a late night swinging on branches, but rather because that’s how it is in moments like these. All is quiet, all is calm, and Jesus says to me, “Let’s hang out. The storm of the world is settled right now.” And so I’m drawn away, back to the center of who I am again.

The children of Israel always had to be called back. They would be following God, and then they’d fall in a rut and forget all of the awesome things that God did, and they would turn their back on God. Eventually, (usually at the end of their rope) God would call them back. They’d then repent (usually) and return to worshipping God. I think that’s what God is doing in this still moment, where the only noise is the whirl of my laptop and the occasional crack of my wicker chair. The reflexive pouring out of my heart begins its biting until blood just starts flowing…

“Jesus, forgive me of my grind, especially that it’s habit is to become a daily one. Awaken my heart every hour, to see what matters in your eyes. I confess that I often lose sight of the bigger picture, and in my feeble attempts at planning for the future, I forget to live in the moment. Let me not be numb to the outcasts, the weak, and the poor. Ignite my heart again with passion for Your heart. Calling me to the centre again where You live. Reclaim Your rightful place on the throne of my heart. Amen.”