I started college last month.
I am learning so much more than how to use a graphing calculator or the many, many verbs there are to conjugate in Spanish.
This month, the freedom of homeschooling I've enjoyed for 18 years flew right out the window.
I learned what homework really is.
The freedom of rising early in the morning to spend leisurely time with God flew away as well.
I learned what desperation really is.
Best of all, I learned just how close God is.
How easily He can be found when my heart is seeking Him.
How He sees me.
How He watches over me.
How He loves me.
I learned what a quiet time really is.
Vital to my soul.
Crucial to my well-being.
Necessary for my heart.
A quiet time can happen anywhere.
At my desk.
Propped up on pillows in my bed.
Lying on the floor.
Sitting at a picnic table on campus.
It can happen at anytime.
I used to be really stuck in my ways as to how I spent time with the Lord in the morning. I was borderline legalistic actually. I didn't realize this until classes began and my schedule cramped up. The majority of my quiet times began to occur at night
...and I didn't even care because I was just glad they were happening at all.
I still think it works best for me to set aside an hour of 100% distraction-free time in the morning to be with my Lord.
But who am I kidding?
In a perfect life maybe there would be no last-minute exams, harder-than-expected projects to complete, library books due when I've barely begun to skim them, and colds which rack my body and fuzz up my brain.
I'm incredibly thankful for the six years that I've exercised this daily discipline that I had the freedom to get to know God
And now I'm learning that no matter what the God I've come to know is with me whether I know it or not. That's freeing.
He doesn't love me more when I spend an hour at His feet.
He doesn't love me less when I stumble around all day and all I can pray is, "Help me."
He's sitting beside me when I stare wide-eyed at my profesor, trying in vain to convert the Mathamatese she is speaking into something I can hope to understand. He's patting me on the back when I make an A on my exam. And He's there on the days (which are happening less and less frequently, praise Him) when I fall into bed exhausted and realize I didn't even open up my Bible today.
This morning I was propped up on some pillows in bed, tissue at the ready to defy this annoying cold which kept me home from church, and Bible in hand.
Quiet times with God are such a mystery.
But God is definitely someone I cannot live without. So I keep coming. For a minute or an hour, when the sun is rising or when the moon has taken its place. All I need is my Bible and an open heart.