there was a time when i was a whole lot more spiritual.
i read my Bible every day. i had a prayer journal. i had an introspective journal. i had a journal for my journal, journal.
i carved out time, either early morning or late at night, for my quiet time. Scripture reading, reflection, verse memorization, prayer.
i was an encourager. i wrote real letters to dear friends. i wrote thank you notes. i had long phone conversations.
i gotta be honest. a consistent quiet time is hard to find these days. no. it's non-existent.
but every day, every day, shapes me. sometimes every hour i am making choices. bad attitude? lazy? bitter? jealous? impatient? angry, irritated, tired, frustrated?
why am i having to make choices? because no one is watching.
but it's those years when i was really spiritual, if you know what i mean, that i draw from.
for example. this verse:
'my flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.' Psalm 73:26
the second summer i worked in Mexico with Adventures in Missions had some lonely, exhausting weeks. i was on a team with a handful of other college kids my age who i loved dearly, yet my leadership thought i was the strongest and would ask me to work alone a whole lot. meaning, i was leading hundreds of teens on these week-long mission trips by myself (even leading their own youth leaders). the loneliest moment came when i was co-leading a trip to Tampico, MX with an older Mexican missionary named Enrique. the youth group was incredibly difficult mainly because the leadership spoiled the kids rotten. one morning i got up early and found a pay phone on the streets below our hotel (yeahhhh, no cell phones then, friends). i called home collect. my mom answered and, sadly, was super upset that i called collect. i hung up quickly and burst into tears. i've never felt so far from home, and i've been in some pretty remote places.
i remembered this verse.
now, a couple days ago, i remembered this verse when i realized those peanut butter crackers had long worn off, baby J was due to be fed, and the little girls were in the midst of their 12th fight of the morning.
or when i'm making dinner for 6 extra dinner guests and baby J is fussy so i put him in his highchair & pulled it right next to me at the stove and i'm stirring the lasagna noodles with one hand and keeping a biter biscuit in his mouth with the other and yelling instructions to the little girls down the hall.
or when the Eldest asks when will we die and go to heaven. or why is God awesome. or did it hurt when Jesus died.
and i feel so so inadequate.
so. i may not be consistent now. but i am thankful for the foundation.