Of Quiet Time Ruts

For ages I held my morning quiet time here in my pink dream room. 

Then one day it was as though God said (now, don't laugh...), "For goodness' sake, Debra! Can't we go someplace else for a change?" シ


And then He suggested I sit in between these sets of windows across the hall in my tower room. He said this way we could watch the sun rise together.




"Or," (He seemed to say),"How about if we go downstairs to the sunroom sometimes?"

"Or perhaps outside in the backyard a little later in the morning?" (I do veer toward being rut-like. Obviously, He's trying to keep me out of ruts and boxes.)


"Or how about if you drive Me down the street to the river? We could stop and buy some coffee first and then sit in the car and look out over the water and read and dream and pray."


I've found that God hates ruts even more than I do. He's so incredibly creative (just look around). The last thing He wants is for anyone to see time with Him as a plain ol' duty or even just a discipline (though that's a small part of it).

 No, hours with Him are much, much more--because He is much more.

Like, "To Infinity and beyond!" more. Way too much to just confine to one same room year after year after year. 

At least, not when one has a choice. (He can be mightily in a jail cell, too, of course.) But right now, today, I am in no cell and I believe I celebrate that--I celebrate Him--when I go where He leads. Even if it's only as far as the room across the hall.

Besides, if I can cooperate with Him and move over to a different room or place, I may be much more likely to move with Him when He asks me to reach out to a stranger in need anywhere, any time.