WET FEET
I snuck out of bed at 5:45, crept down the stairs, threw on my walking “gear", shoved another piece of wood on the fire, laced up my trusty, tennis shoes and headed out the door expecting to hit the pavement and begin my “sacred” morning walk. Instead, I was met with freezing cold wind and a sheet of ice. Knowing that turning back would throw off my whole morning, mostly my frame of mind, I decided to go anyway. You see, my morning walk, is more necessary to me than my morning cup of coffee. It is my exercise time. It is the one time in my day when I am truly alone. No little voices call my name and demand attention, other than the ones in my own head that is. I am able to think through things that are bothering me or need my mental attention without interruption or I am able to plan out my day. Most importantly in the quietness of the early morning, I am able to meet with my Heavenly Father. Some mornings I just walk and listen. Other mornings I feel like I am beating down His door with my requests and questions, much like my children do to me as soon as their little feet hit the floor. It is during this time that I most feel His presence, where I get renewed, and encouraged. It is for this reason that I plowed on down the icy pavement.
This particular morning, my feet did not have sure footing. They slipped from one slick spot to the next. The going was slow. My calves and thighs burned like no other. Most mornings I enjoyed watching the world around me awaken, but this morning I couldn’t take my eyes off of the ground in front of me for fear of hitting a patch of ice and breaking my neck. Halfway through the walk I realized that I was exhausted, not enjoying myself, and I hadn’t even said good morning to God. Instead of feeling renewed, filled up, and ready to meet the day, I felt worn out, discouraged and ready to get home. The scary thing was I recognized that feeling all to well. You know……tired, on unsure footing, far from home, alone and not because you want to be, ready to be done and like you have hardly spoken to God at all in ages? You know what I am talking about right? And it hit me….this is what happens when all I do is let God into a little part of my life. The planned, boxed in little part, where I am capable of hearing Him because nothing else is going on or distracting me. While I had been getting up early to meet with Him, I had been leaving Him at the back door when I got home and plowing into my day on my own. On the solid pavement days, I did ok on my own was able to look up a few times say a quick prayer and go about my business, but on those days that threatened to kick my physical and spiritual you know what, I was so focused on getting from one moment to the next that I didn’t even look up and I ended up feeling like I did on that icy morning. Tired and done.
I know that getting in that alone time with God is important, but it really doesn’t mean that much if I keep Him in that little alone time box. He wants out. He wants to meet with me during the day. He wants my eyes to be on Him even when, or should I say, especially when, the way is rough or slick. I imagine that He dislikes being left at the backdoor of my heart more than he dislikes being left at the backdoor of my house. Not because He wants to control me but because He wants to lift me up and carry me through the days that I can’t walk through on my own. Point is…. He doesn’t want me to be alone.
I snuck out of bed at 5:45, crept down the stairs, threw on my walking “gear", shoved another piece of wood on the fire, laced up my trusty, tennis shoes and headed out the door expecting to hit the pavement and begin my “sacred” morning walk. Instead, I was met with freezing cold wind and a sheet of ice. Knowing that turning back would throw off my whole morning, mostly my frame of mind, I decided to go anyway. You see, my morning walk, is more necessary to me than my morning cup of coffee. It is my exercise time. It is the one time in my day when I am truly alone. No little voices call my name and demand attention, other than the ones in my own head that is. I am able to think through things that are bothering me or need my mental attention without interruption or I am able to plan out my day. Most importantly in the quietness of the early morning, I am able to meet with my Heavenly Father. Some mornings I just walk and listen. Other mornings I feel like I am beating down His door with my requests and questions, much like my children do to me as soon as their little feet hit the floor. It is during this time that I most feel His presence, where I get renewed, and encouraged. It is for this reason that I plowed on down the icy pavement.
This particular morning, my feet did not have sure footing. They slipped from one slick spot to the next. The going was slow. My calves and thighs burned like no other. Most mornings I enjoyed watching the world around me awaken, but this morning I couldn’t take my eyes off of the ground in front of me for fear of hitting a patch of ice and breaking my neck. Halfway through the walk I realized that I was exhausted, not enjoying myself, and I hadn’t even said good morning to God. Instead of feeling renewed, filled up, and ready to meet the day, I felt worn out, discouraged and ready to get home. The scary thing was I recognized that feeling all to well. You know……tired, on unsure footing, far from home, alone and not because you want to be, ready to be done and like you have hardly spoken to God at all in ages? You know what I am talking about right? And it hit me….this is what happens when all I do is let God into a little part of my life. The planned, boxed in little part, where I am capable of hearing Him because nothing else is going on or distracting me. While I had been getting up early to meet with Him, I had been leaving Him at the back door when I got home and plowing into my day on my own. On the solid pavement days, I did ok on my own was able to look up a few times say a quick prayer and go about my business, but on those days that threatened to kick my physical and spiritual you know what, I was so focused on getting from one moment to the next that I didn’t even look up and I ended up feeling like I did on that icy morning. Tired and done.
I know that getting in that alone time with God is important, but it really doesn’t mean that much if I keep Him in that little alone time box. He wants out. He wants to meet with me during the day. He wants my eyes to be on Him even when, or should I say, especially when, the way is rough or slick. I imagine that He dislikes being left at the backdoor of my heart more than he dislikes being left at the backdoor of my house. Not because He wants to control me but because He wants to lift me up and carry me through the days that I can’t walk through on my own. Point is…. He doesn’t want me to be alone.
Psalms 25:4 &5... Show me the path where I should walk, O Lord; point out the right road for me to follow. Lead me by your truth and teach me, for you are the God who saves me. All day long I put my hope in you.
So on that cold morning I made it to the end of my walk, calves burning from exertion and my feet wet from all the puddles I stepped in along the way, because I was so busy looking up- up at my Father.
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