As a recovering workaholic I’m trying to schedule more spontaneous, leisure activities into my week.
I know irony. Scheduled spontaneity. Anyway, a friend and I had talked about walking a couple times a week now that the relentlessly oppressive summer heat in Texas has given way to October coolness. She, by her own admission, is a recovering workaholic too. The only time we could come up with to walk was 6 am on Thursdays. This past Thursday morning I woke up at 3:27, 4:19, and 5:41 am, apparently anxious about over sleeping. We live on the same street so agreed to each start walking toward the other’s house at 6 am. I had forgotten that it would be dark and that it was a day and time when, despite our water rationing, it was ok for people to run their sprinklers.
So far no sign of my slight, brown haired friend. I thought to myself, this is like our life of faith. We’re walking in the dark looking for a friend who is, we hope, in that same moment, walking toward us. I’m walking toward my friend in the dark. When my friend appears, we will walk together as the light dawns.
God is the ultimately reliable friend and walking companion. I believe that God is always walking toward me. I believe that every time I pray, it is because the Holy Spirit has been praying in me. I believe that, every time I think I’m reaching out to God, inviting God into my life, I’m actually rsvp’ing to God’s prior invitation to me.