Waking up worshipping
I am not a morning person. Not even close. If I have the luxury of being left to my own devices and waking up on my own, it's usually a two hour process. I lay around in bed for a bit, then stumble into the bathroom for morning ablutions, then shuffle downstairs to sit on the couch for a bit. Maybe some coffee. Maybe some TV. About 30 minutes after I finally get upright, I start getting hungry. Finally I get dressed. All of that takes two hours. Then I'm ready to think and pray and move on with the day.
On Saturday morning, I had that luxury. But I didn't do it. Instead I woke up worshiping God. No kidding. It's never happened to me before.
Last week was one of the two busiest weeks of my ministry year. We had a Women's Christmas Dinner on Friday night, serving about 265 women. It's a huge endeavor, and I have a wonderful team helping me. But I was exhausted when it was all over with. And I was looking forward to a long sleep-in on Saturday morning. I went to bed thrilled with all that had happened, how God had shown up and ministered to the women. And I woke up with Him on my mind and pervading the air in my room.
Instead of lolly-gagging in bed, I popped awake and was already praying before my mind was fully alert. My body was sore, but I dragged it down to the couch anyway. Instead of turning on the TV and easing into the day, I reached for my Bible. The mere thought of doing anything but talking to God and reading Scripture was simply unappealing.
I don't know if that happens to anyone else, but I can't recall it ever happening to me before. I don't think it had anything to do with me or how spiritual I am these days. I think it had everything to do with God showing up at the dinner and then invading my morning with an extra dose of Him. For more than an hour, I prayed, read the Bible, and "wasted time" with God.
I'd love to have that happen more often. I'd love to say that my heart is naturally inclined to spend time with God first thing in the morning. More often, my heart is inclined to mump and grump and grouse about cold bathroom floors and bad hair days. The only explanation for my unusual wake-up call Saturday is the invasion of an unusually gracious God pursuing me.
Now I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I don't have to do spiritual calisthenics to manufacture a sense of God's presence. I don't have to cajole or beg or plead with Him for a moment of His gracious attention. No, I was dead to the world when He showed up in my bedroom and my brain. I didn't so much as give Him a "Hello how are You?" before He wrapped me up in a fluffy blanket of joy. Even now, I'm a little misty-eyed to think that He loves me and wants to be with me so much that He would wake me up to the fragrance of His Spirit. I'm not even sure I can totally put words around it. All I know is that I want more.
Have you ever woken up worshiping?
On Saturday morning, I had that luxury. But I didn't do it. Instead I woke up worshiping God. No kidding. It's never happened to me before.
Last week was one of the two busiest weeks of my ministry year. We had a Women's Christmas Dinner on Friday night, serving about 265 women. It's a huge endeavor, and I have a wonderful team helping me. But I was exhausted when it was all over with. And I was looking forward to a long sleep-in on Saturday morning. I went to bed thrilled with all that had happened, how God had shown up and ministered to the women. And I woke up with Him on my mind and pervading the air in my room.
Instead of lolly-gagging in bed, I popped awake and was already praying before my mind was fully alert. My body was sore, but I dragged it down to the couch anyway. Instead of turning on the TV and easing into the day, I reached for my Bible. The mere thought of doing anything but talking to God and reading Scripture was simply unappealing.
I don't know if that happens to anyone else, but I can't recall it ever happening to me before. I don't think it had anything to do with me or how spiritual I am these days. I think it had everything to do with God showing up at the dinner and then invading my morning with an extra dose of Him. For more than an hour, I prayed, read the Bible, and "wasted time" with God.
I'd love to have that happen more often. I'd love to say that my heart is naturally inclined to spend time with God first thing in the morning. More often, my heart is inclined to mump and grump and grouse about cold bathroom floors and bad hair days. The only explanation for my unusual wake-up call Saturday is the invasion of an unusually gracious God pursuing me.
Now I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I don't have to do spiritual calisthenics to manufacture a sense of God's presence. I don't have to cajole or beg or plead with Him for a moment of His gracious attention. No, I was dead to the world when He showed up in my bedroom and my brain. I didn't so much as give Him a "Hello how are You?" before He wrapped me up in a fluffy blanket of joy. Even now, I'm a little misty-eyed to think that He loves me and wants to be with me so much that He would wake me up to the fragrance of His Spirit. I'm not even sure I can totally put words around it. All I know is that I want more.
Have you ever woken up worshiping?
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