What is it about summer that makes us change our routines--even our daily quiet time with God? I feel pulled in a multitude of directions during this season. There's more yard work to be done, more dust coming in from the constant swing and bang of the dogie door, and more friends and family I want to see.
Of course, if you garden, then there are hoses to set and reset, higher water bills to pay, and huge mosquito bites to treat, too. If West Nile Virus doesn't kill me, then God, who I seem to have swept away with the porch dust, may strike me dead.
How can I recapture my need to need Him? Perhaps I haven't totally lost touch with God, just changed the way I sense and worship Him.
After all, curled on a porch sofa and listening to His rain and thunder during a storm is a form of quiet worship and thanksgiving. Mowing the grass and trimming the hedges He's allowed to grow, reminds me of the spiritual pruning we all need in our walk of faith. Observing daily in my bird baths, feathered creatures who relish the water and preen themselves, is a picture of the cleansing forgiveness we each need daily to clean our souls.
Surprise! God is all around me this summer, linking life forms and growth to my spiritual heartbeats--and all this time I thought I had lost Him. Our recent family gathering in celebration of Independence Day evoked thoughts of lives sacrificed for a strong moral compass in a new land in North America over 225 years ago. It was a reminder of how much our freedom to worship collectively has cost our countrymen--past, present and future.
I was host to a special boy for Independence Day. His father bravely walked his African family away from Christian persecution in Liberia to live for many years in refugee camps in Ghana and the Ivory Coast. Then one day, God answered this father's prayers for passage to the United States of America. Winston is living proof of God at work to liberate persecuted Christians in our world.
Where will God pop up in your summer time plans? He's possibly just a heartbeat away if you open up your eyes and ears.