(Originally posted in 2003)
The other day I woke up to the sound of my radio alarm: discouraging news and singing cowboys. I don’t care much for that kind of music and I don’t like depressing news. Both get me shutting the alarm off quick.
I walked out of my bedroom and as I neared the top of the stairs, I could hear music coming from my daughter’s room. I listened to the CD she had playing, and as I could clearly decipher the words, it confirmed the theory formulating in my head: it was rather loud. I asked myself, how can you listen to that much noise in the morning? I would have gone in there and demanded she turn it down except that, besides the fact that everyone else was up and awake, I liked the song she was listening to.
It did, however, make me think about how mornings begin for many people. NOISY! We wake to the sounds of high-pitched beeps and screeches from our alarms or to the tunes of musicians who more than likely should have put their guitars to rest long ago. Then, reluctantly, we pull ourselves out of bed and begin our day.
We sit in cars, wait at stop lights, fiddle with radio stations searching for just the song, listen to the clamor of our minds rattle back and forth as to all the things we need to remember to do, people to call, places to go and the list endlessly goes, on and on.
When we get to work, if it isn’t high powered machinery that fills our ears and empty crevices of our brains, it’s the rattle of computer keys, the cries of children or adults, the needs of customers, and ultimately, our own thoughts of what we’re going to fix for dinner, what we need at the store, or whose turn is it to pick up the kids.
As I took a moment to listen to the song coming from my daughter’s room, I wondered how little we actually fill our mornings with quietness. How little we fill our mornings with the whispers of God. It made me wonder if God spoke to me in this morning, here and now, would I hear him through the clatter of all the other noise?
There are days I know that I definitely miss the mark. And I find that those days are usually the messiest. There is little peace, no direction, much confusion, lots of frustration. Those days readily take me to my knees in a cry for help and forgiveness.
Do we stop to listen to the voice of God? Do we stop and enjoy His overwhelming tenderness towards us as we seek His heart? Do we let the early morning alarm go off and allow the voices of others to blare over what God has to say to us in that day? Do we make time for the morning paper, but no time for His word?
It is my prayer that I do make the time, by making it a priority to be with the one who waits for me to draw near to His heart and feast on His unfailing love. Unless I do, I will walk through the day in my own strength and land where I have landed so often before – on my face.
Though the hard way, I have learned, I would much rather start the day on my knees.