I wonder why “quiet time” became defined by the perfect chair illuminated by the perfect light at the perfect time of day, flanked by the journal that has the perfect paper to capture our thoughts as we study the perfect set of scriptures or chapters from a book.
I worry sometimes that we’ve reduced the divinity of time quieted by God to an obligation or Pinterest-ready tool kit sure to deliver a perfect experience. In doing so, it becomes a religious practice that isn’t exclusive to those of us who call ourselves Jesus-followers. Solitude, meditation, prayer, sacred spaces all are used as tools in searching for the something that will set souls at ease.
And all the while, God says, “That something isn’t a thing to find—it’s a gift to receive.” He holds our souls in His hand, and He quiets them on our behalf.
I’ve shared that my liturgy…
