The abundance of Your steadfast love

O Lord, in the morning You hear my voice;

in the morning I direct my prayer to You and watch. Psalm 5:3

I will take my stand at my watchpost

and station myself on the tower,

and look out to see what He will say to me,

and what I will answer concerning my complaint. Habakkuk 2:1

Yesterday as we gathered around the massive cheese and chicken nachos with extra jalapeños at Bisonwiches yesterday after church, we did that thing where we introduce the person next to us to the new guy we met who was absolutely so cool and brilliant and even fun, this Chinese guy who had just sorted through his universe and found Jesus and who was now a double major in global studies and physics at the University of Arizona because they both declare the glory of the LORD.   

And I was introduced as the most spiritually disciplined person ever, who every morning is at it again, directing my prayer to Him and watching for what He will say to me.  

So why is that?  I mean, there are chunks of undisciplined life in me, like I still don’t floss my teeth, and I am married to Mr. Floss-his-teeth-every-night Voelkel and I know it is like the number one factor in keeping one’s teeth and preventing heart disease, or something like that.  And Alan will mutter along with his dentist, “I just floss the teeth I want to keep,” and it still doesn’t move me beyond a day or two of cooperation.  And I will pop handfuls of gummy bears even though I know the short-term result will be a whack of a headache right between the eyes. Why is that?

And “ever” is of course not true since I live next door to Jack and Mary Anne Voelkel, and I am just baby step, baby step in this watching thing, compared to them.  

But why do I do this?  Why do I roll out of bed just before the click of the alarm ding at 4:15 every morning?

The answer that comes to mind is that of Simon Peter when he replies to Jesus, “Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.”

This is beyond the eight-year-old girl’s established discipline when I first started reading the Bible every day, and pretty much underlining every single word in the poofy-green-covered Living Bible that I was working through, because to underline it seemed to make it mine.  But the seeds were planted then, with the implication was that it was good for me, like Popeye, the sailor man’s spinach.

This early morning watch is utterly selfish.  

To answer the aching in my soul, the meaning making grasp of what-is-it-all-about.  I so easily stumble.  And Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and light unto my path.  Which is good, but that is not the real reason, simply avoiding stubbed toes and bruised knees.

It’s that seeing what He has to say to me.  He, The Almighty, The Strong One Who Sees, The LORD Will Provide, Shalom, El-Shaddai, the Alpha and Amen, The LORD our banner over me is love.  

Because over and over, tromping through the dark valleys and clambering over the sunlit mountain peaks, I know what I will find, every morning without fail.  He is here, whispering in the stillness, “You are mine, and I am Yours.  My beloved child, welcome.”

Selah.