Wednesday, July 8, 2015


It's a little after 6:15 am as I start writing this blog.  That's early.  Yesterday I wasn't even thinking about getting out of bed until 7:15.  But I decided last night that I needed to be better about waking up early.  Not for the bragging rights.  But in college, after I encountered Jesus, I woke up at 5:30 every morning so I could have quiet time with Jesus before my day started.  I needed those early morning quiet hours to find my strength for the day with coffee with Jesus. 

 So here I am, now 6:19 am, on the couch with my giant cup of coffee in my tee shirt and old boxers.  And I am writing a blog.  Because while I needed the hours of morning reading and praying (those wouldn't hurt), I connect most with Jesus when I am writing.  I filter less.  I hurt more.  For some reason, it seems more honest, more real, more authentic when there are real words instead of silent prayers in my head. 

 When I met Jesus my sophomore year of college, I was a wreck.  I was a disaster.  I clearly needed God to redeem me.  And He did.  Every time I thought I figured things out and felt like my life was coming together, I got wrecked again.  It was a continuous cycle that brought me to the feet of Jesus every morning at 5:30.  I fervently prayed for God to take whatever cup I was drinking.  I read and read and read and memorized Scripture.  Because I needed it. 

 Now I have been in this why-am-I-even-getting-out-of-bed season, it has been a struggle to do much of anything, let along get out of bed at 5:30 am.  I stopped praying because I felt frustrated and tired and lonely under my covers.  I stopped reading because I felt frustrated and tired and lonely at my kitchen table. 

 So I'm coming back to where I started--in the dark early hours of the morning.  To be loved by a great God and a best Friend.  To dream of where I'm going.  To remember where I've come from.  To get out of bed and coffee with my Jesus.To find my strength in the silence of the morning in the presence of my Redeemer.

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