Sometimes it's all you can do to get through the day without a meltdown. I have felt that way for weeks now. I keep thinking guiltily of the dust collecting on my prayer journal, waiting patiently next to the couch where I love to meet with God in the mornings. I haven't had my "quiet time" in a very long time now.
I won't say I don't feel guilty about that. I won't say I don't miss those times, so important for grounding me in my day, putting the focus where it needs to be. And someday (soon, I hope) I know I will have those times again, because they are important to me and to God. I long for them.
But I'm learning something surprising in the midst of just surviving. I'm learning to let it be OK. God is still here, and I can still have rich times with Him. In fact, I'm learning that minute-by-minute prayers draw me to Him throughout the day. Our relationship is portable. It doesn't have to be confined to the couch. Of course I knew that, but I don't know how much I have ever really experienced it.
He didn't say, "Be sure you spend X number of minutes in prayer and study each day." He did say, "Abide in Me." To abide is to dwell, to rest, to make my home there. Sometimes that might mean getting a delicious hour on the couch to talk with Him. These days it means lifting my heart in a silent plea when I am trying to be a good mom and wife while working three part-time jobs. It means crying "help" when I'm about to lose it with a child. It means asking for strength to stay up and work when I long for sleep. It means thanking Him throughout the day for these things I GET to do. It means opening my eyes to the reality of His presence and the overflowing blessings He brings.
I'm learning to grab each moment I can get with Him, like this precious nap-time break or the quiet when I stepped out of the house this morning into the falling snow--just for a moment--before jumping into the day.
Those who abide will bear much fruit. I want to learn the secret of that ongoing conversation with Him, the moment-by-moment awareness of His presence. I have a long way to go, but I'm learning.