INVITING GOD TO MY MEETING

The sun apparently had a rough night.  Its flaming head didn’t seem to want to get out of bed this morning.  I was up over an hour ahead of it.  I tolerated my bowl of Cheerios by sprinkling a few chopped dates over them, soaking them with a little 2% milk and pretending they were bacon, eggs and toast. 

Gracie was anxious to get out and kept pushing me, her nose poking against my leg as I strapped on my boots and headed toward the kitchen door.  As I stepped off of the porch I reached for my walking stick which I keep next to the steps.  (I’ve begin to call this old stick my prayer stick. Almost like a little kid, I feel like I am Moses with his rod as I take it along to the tabernacle each morning).

This morning I was on a mission.  While I always go to meet with God when I go into the woods and walk the covered trail I call my tabernacle and although I always expect Him to hear my prayers as I kneel at the little pile of rocks I call my altar,  this morning was different.  I had determined that today I wanted to focus on God and hear what His Holy Spirit had to say to me.  I wanted to “be still and know”  that I had been with God.

I stopped at the edge of the little rise just before entering into the woods, closed my eyes and listened as if I expected God to give me a big “Good Morning”.  It’s amazing what you can hear when you close your eyes. 

There were two crows, one toward the Southeast and one somewhere in the trees of to the Northwest.  They seem to be “squawking” out warnings to each other of my presence.  I noticed what seemed to me, a larger number of cars and trucks than normal, on the interstate off to my east.  Somewhere down toward the south of town a worker dropped a large rail, wheel, or other object and I could hear its echo resonate through the trees.  But I didn’t hear a word from God.

I opened my eyes and walked on trying to focus on God’s presence.   A bushy tailed squirrel scampered up a tree on the trail just ahead of us.  Gracie’s attention must have been somewhere else because she didn’t even see it.  More birds, flittering from tree to tree sang to welcome the morning and warn that there were intruders walking in their world.  My eyes wondered to an opening between the branches and I saw a carpet of already fallen leaves.  “Autumn is only a few weeks away”, I thought to myself.

A few more paces and my mind traveled 30 or so miles to the North where my oldest son was most likely getting in his old Chevy truck and preparing to drive to work in Birmingham.  Across the field my middle son would be staying home today, “The gout” has taken up residence in his feet and he has decided to take a few days’ vacation in order to rid himself of his unwanted visitor.  I thought of my daughter there in Danville.  The kids would be up in a little while and Matt would be making his hour long drive to work.  Her day, as always, would be full of babies and all they have to bring to the table.  Still, there was no word from God. 

Gracie sniffed at the leaves where an old armadillo had been “rooting” around last night.  She has such a nose; she can smell something a mile away.  Way off in the distance, it has to be more than two miles; a train whistle blew as it neared a crossing.  I can picture some engineer sitting in the cab of the engine with his cup of coffee as he pulled his load toward Birmingham. 

After a short walk I arrived at the altar.  Surely God will be waiting here for me.  Surely He will welcome me and give me some word for the day.  I dropped the stick and knelt in the spot where my knees usually come to rest.  My eyes considered the small stones lying all over the altar and around it on the ground.  I touched them and reminded myself of the people they represent and the problems and needs they have.  I closed my eyes and bowed my head.  I prayed for them, calling them by name.  I waited for the heavens to part and God to walk out in all His majesty.   But when I opened my eyes there was no one there but “old faithful” Gracie, standing in her “watch dog” position as she “protects” me from any “buggers” that might attack me when I pray. 

The sun finally peaked over the horizon and wiggled its bright red rays in between the trees.  I continued to wait a while…… nothing.  So with the aid of my stick I walked back down the hill and across the little dry weather branch and headed toward the house.  The day was not waiting on me it was time to go. 

Some thoughts occurred to me though as I walked back toward the house.  Consider them with me if you will. 

·         Satan will do his utmost to distract you.  He will use good things, beautiful things, normal thing or whatever he has at his disposal to divert your attention from God.

·         If I can “take the wings of the morning” and go into the woods to be alone with God and still be distracted…..how much more will the diversions present themselves if I remain in the house, in the office, in my car, with the TV, radio or other people blaring out the noise of the morning and demanding my attention?

·         How often do I, like Elijah, look for God in the big things, flashes of light, majestic songs, strange occurrences, profound messages when instead He speaks in a still, small voice in the sweet chirp of a morning bird or the smell of decaying leaves or even the sound of a distant freight train? 

I can’t put God in a grocery sack.  I can’t orchestrate a meeting with the Omnipotent.  My time with God is not "my" time  it is His and if I listen He will speak and make Himself mighty to me, in His time.