Make The Choice To Show Up

Early morning quiet time has always been a struggle for me, but when I find myself in an unfamiliar setting, the challenge seems to take on new layers, especially when it comes to travel, interrupted sleep, and following a different routine than usual  –  even if that routine happens to include a focused, God centered church event.

It’s almost a bit of a paradox, but not long ago, as September quietly rolled to a close, that’s exactly where I was, walking down the scuffed gray steps of an old, multi-level guesthouse, pushing past a stubborn stick in the door frame, and stepping into the day through a cool blanket of autumn fog.

Just before 8 a.m.

Time enough to slip across the empty road near the large campground dining room, and make it to a prayer meeting I never really planned to attend.

Not because I didn’t want to go, it’s just that my sleep deprived body was drawn toward the “one click” snooze button option, and the 11:00 a.m. Camp Meeting service seemed a much better choice.

Except for a very distinct squeak that startled me awake.

The culprit?

An adjacent doorknob rattled from years of wear and tear that brought about a deciding moment.

Stay.

Or go?

Seize the moment and make an effort to spend an hour in prayer, or stretch and settle in for the off chance I might be able to fall back asleep? I waffled. Flesh against Spirit, Spirit against flesh – before throwing back the covers and standing up to meet the day.

But now that I’m up, I marvel at how quiet the grounds are. The Kentucky hillside isn’t fully awake yet, and I shiver in the gray stillness before wandering toward the sanctuary, knowing beneath the surface of this calm morning, preparation is already underway inside the big kitchen for hundreds of guests who will soon arrive in search of coffee, cinnamon rolls, and a full-blown breakfast served with love.

This experience is both foreign and familiar to me all at the same time, because even though I’ve been coming to this hill once or twice every few years for nearly three decades, it will be my first time participating in the early prayer service.

And it feels different out here before the crowd arrives.

Sacred. Holy. Special. It gives new definition to time alone with the Lord, in this space where people of God have gathered since long before I was born.

Closer to the church, a few more early risers move into the auditorium, and inside, the group leader encourages us to embrace this sweet hour of prayer as one on one time with the Lord – to block out distractions and connect with the One who supplies help and strength for every day.

There will be no lyrics accompanying the soft piano music playing up front, as not to distract from sharing the words of our own hearts, the thoughts that well up from deep within during this consecrated time of personal communion.

I guess I tell you all this because it changed my day, this one small choice to show up even when I really didn’t want to made a difference in my perspective for the rest of the trip.

And isn’t that what time with God does, no matter where we are in life?

I look around as some start to kneel, while others settle into empty pews, and still more pace the length of the platform, or walk the perimeter of the building.

At first, I’m not exactly sure where to go, but then I move toward the back of the room and find my spot.

An open corner not far from where I would find myself sitting a few hours later when the main conference started, and the room filled with people of all ages and stages of life, coming from around the world to worship, and find God in the messages of encouragement and inspiration.

And it was a small slice of heaven I believe I’ll always treasure.

Thinking back now, as I finish up these words from an outdoor chair on my own front porch –  the birds singing an afternoon song and nature humming her subtle sounds –  I still remember the sweet feeling of God’s presence on that cool Kentucky morning when I made the choice to show up and meet Him, even though the early encounter hadn’t been part of my original plan for the day.

And as always, I never cease to be amazed at God’s faithfulness, despite my own inconsistency.

I’m struck with the thought that His love is not bound by schedule or routine, and once again, I realize He doesn’t change, even when we find ourselves in unfamiliar settings or outside our normal pattern of life.

His grace extends far beyond the walls of an old country church, and whether we find ourselves alone or in a crowded room, with unsettled faith or in confident assurance, God is ready to pour out His loving kindness.

He always has time for us. If only we will carve out space for Him.