2 Samuel 24; Galatians 4; Ezekiel 31; Psalm 79

One of the things I love most about fall is the smell of a wood smoke coming from the fireplace. The warm colors from changing tree leaves, a crisp air and a long-sleeve shirt, a hot mug of something sweet and soothing, these are things that make me feel wrapped and grounded.

This fall, I’ve had to institute some strict personal boundaries for time. This calendar year has taught me many things, and one is that things come at a price. What was the cost I’ve been paying? Cost to my core responsibilities, cost to time with my husband, cost to my health, cost to a sense of presence with my family … and oddly, while some activities were service for the Lord, my relationship with God seemed lost in the noise of all the busy.

²⁴ But the king replied to Araunah, “No, I insist on buying it, for I will not present burnt offerings to the Lord my God that have cost me nothing.” So David paid him fifty pieces of silver for the threshing floor and the oxen. (2 Samuel 24:24, NLT)

My relationship with God was slowly shifting from intention to convenience. The mindfulness of his presence was being muted and obscured by the din of busyness and obligation and overwhelm. I lost grasp of Peace and the One who grounds me–even while I was trying to serve him.

In a season where everything jockeys for first place (isn’t that every day?) … when I evaluate and reevaluate how I spend my time, talent, treasure … when I see a plate that’s heaping and heavy … oh, what is the cost?

“That girl with the cape is cheating somewhere.” (p 147, The Best Yes, Lysa TerKeurst, Thomas Nelson Books)

It is a discipline. Learning and discerning when to say no and when to say yes.

I welcome the cooler temps creeping into the forecast, the wood stacked along the driveway anticipating a season’s first burn, the pumpkin spice everything–but nothing will ground me more than intentional time with the One who knows and loves me best.

Lord, thank you for reminding me of first things, for redirecting my heart towards you. Please help me to order things in my life. Help me to be a better steward of the time, talent, and treasure you’ve give me.

Courtney (66books365)

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Genesis 5; Matthew 5; Ezra 5; Acts 5

When God created human beings, he made them to be like himself. (Genesis 5:1b, NLT)

Not much farther down the page, this:

³ When Adam was 130 years old, he became the father of a son who was just like him—in his very image. He named his son Seth. (Genesis 5:3, NLT)

A lineage of fathers and sons ensues–generations. But Enoch’s mention reads a little differently.

²¹ When Enoch was 65 years old, he became the father of Methuselah. ²² After the birth of Methuselah, Enoch lived in close fellowship with God for another 300 years, and he had other sons and daughters. ²³ Enoch lived 365 years, ²⁴ walking in close fellowship with God. Then one day he disappeared, because God took him. (Genesis 5:21-24, NLT, emphasis mine)

Just like Amy, I pick a focus word each year. Last year’s was COMMUNITY. This year, it’s RESTORE.

I was driving back from the library last night and listened to segments of a radio sermon. I’d love to go back and give it my full attention, but there was a part where the pastor talked about busyness, the badge people wear with weary and pride, and how if we’re so busy, it’s because we choose it. (His wording was much more poignant, to be sure.)

It stirred up a connection to an inbox article I read the other day about quiet time in the Word, and specifically bullet point three (dealing with busyness and, ahem, restoration.).

Like Enoch, I want to live in close fellowship with the Lord. It made him stand out on a page, but I want it to make me stand out as different. I don’t want to be just like everyone else–over committed and weary. I may still have a schedule that has me up early and running all day, but through it all, I want to live restored in my soul–not found in coffee breaks and coffee dates (although, I love coffee), but in God’s Word.

¹³ “You are the salt of the earth. But what good is salt if it has lost its flavor? Can you make it salty again? It will be thrown out and trampled underfoot as worthless.

¹⁴ “You are the light of the world—like a city on a hilltop that cannot be hidden. ¹⁵ No one lights a lamp and then puts it under a basket. Instead, a lamp is placed on a stand, where it gives light to everyone in the house. ¹⁶ In the same way, let your good deeds shine out for all to see, so that everyone will praise your heavenly Father. (Matthew 5:13-16, NLT)

Father God, I know (I KNOW!) that you are the well that quenches my thirst. Nothing in this world, no matter how full my days, will fill me up, satisfy me and RESTORE me as time in your Word will. I’m thankful for precious access to you through prayer and your Word.

Courtney (66books365)

Numbers 7; Psalms 42, 43; Song of Songs 5; Hebrews 5

As a deer thirsts for streams of water,

so I thirst for you, God.

I thirst for the living God.

When can I go to meet with him?

Psalm 42:1-2 (NCV)

I am thirsty. Thirsty for more of God; more of His tangible presence.

I am craving extra time spent in His arms, enveloping my heart with His compassion. I am longing to bury my face in His scent – purity, sacrifice, love – and feel the glowing warmth of His Glory. I am eager to hear His voice, whispering in my ear, booming in my spirit. I desire to see His benevolent face, His grace-filled eyes, and His tender smile. I yearn to taste and see more of His goodness.

The distractions of life, of motherhood, of the busyness of piled up to-do lists, and the enticing lure of smart phone, computer, television…, cut chunks out of my day. Interruptions make upheaval out of my attempts at quiet time, exclamations in the middle of my prayers. Most days I don’t have a single moment to myself to think, use the bathroom, or shower, let alone be still and know. Exhaustion, an ever constant, yet unwelcome companion, leads to falling asleep moments after beginning to meditate on the Word.

I often feel spiritually dehydrated, and left wanting more of His Living Water. My lips are parched from thanklessness issuing from my mouth; my tongue is dry from a lack of praise. My eyes gritty from being in the desert place. My ears not fully tuned into the whispers of His voice, hearing only fragments of truth amidst the enemy’s lies. My skin dried up, mummy-like, desperate for His healing salve.

When I am able to find my way to the river, when I am able to meet with Him, I dip my toes into the waterside, feeling His refreshing. Wading into His compassion, forgiveness ripples and flows around me, currents of mercy tugging at my legs. Sinking deeper still, I am able to drink in His Holy Water, tasting His perfect draught, baptizing in His love.

My heart is flooded with gratitude, and my mouth is filled with worship. I am soaked in His affectionate whispers and drenched in His Truth. I am renewed, revitalized by His answers to prayers. I am encouraged by His Word. I am restored.

My thirst is quenched.

And, yet, I still want more…

I am thirsty. Thirsty for more of God. When can we meet again?

Blessings – Julie, Vadipatti, India (written in the U.S.A.)

Scripture taken from the New Century Version®. Copyright © 2005 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.