Missing Him

It’s a good thing I didn’t turn on the light. Had I maintained my religious discipline and turned on the light to read that day’s devotional and Scripture portion, I would have missed Him.

Oh, to be sure, He would have spoken to me through the routine, but that morning in particular He had more for me. What if I had been too stuck in the rut—not paying attention?

The enemy would have loved it—perverting a good thing such as a spiritual discipline. Think enemy strategy for a moment: what if he could get us to approach prayer, fasting, or Scripture reading as a task to check off our mental to-do list? Get us to feel good about ourselves. Get us to develop forms of godliness that lack power. Draw us closer to legalism than to relationship with Abba.

Jesus Himself warned about missing Him: You diligently study the Scriptures because you think that by them you possess eternal life. These are the Scriptures that testify about me, yet you refuse to come to me to have life (John 5:39-40).

Ever wonder how we might be missing Him today? Routine and the familiar may be a couple culprits.

But not that morning. In the dark as I approached the front room where I meet God, I sensed something different. Moonbeams flooded the space. Our chair spotlighted. Light splashed lace curtain patterns on the pinewood paneling. Oh my! I crawled into Our chair and just sat. The cat joined us too. No journaling. No reading. No lamp. A little conversation is all. Soaking. Absorbing. Intermittent purring. 20 minutes, maybe 30.

Basking in the illumination.