But I call to You for help, Lord; in the morning my prayer meets You.—Psalm 88:13
Those who do not provide for a set-aside time during the day—preferably in the morning, when they can replenish their spiritual resources—may find that they have to provide a time at the end of the day for regret, for repentance, and for eating humble pie.
A traveler in the Himalayas told how he arose very early one morning to watch the sun rise on the towering peaks. He said: “There, as the day began to dawn, we saw arise before our enraptured gaze, within a complete semicircle, twenty peaks each above twenty thousand feet in height, snow-capped with virgin snow. For half an hour the curtain was lifted and we inwardly worshiped. Then the mists began to fill the valleys between, and the view was gone. Gone? No, not really—it was forever laid up in our green and grateful memories.”
That is what a quiet time in the early part of the day does for you. Before the mists of worldly happenings blot out your view of God, you can take a time-exposure of Him which is indelibly imprinted on your mind. Then, after the mists close in, the vision is still there within. You live in two worlds at once—drawing physical strength from the world around you while drawing spiritual sustenance from the world above you.
Pascal, the great French philosopher and Christian, once said: “Nearly all the ills of life spring from this simple source: that we are not able to sit still in a room.” But what if in the stillness, we were to meet with God? How healing that would be! We would arise with what Stevenson calls “happy morning faces.” We would become children of the dawn.
Heavenly Father, give me the wisdom to be able to take “the pause that refreshes,” to drink every day from the living Fountain, the Eternal spring. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.
Lm 3:22-26; Ps 40:1; Isa 26:8; 33:2
What was the psalmist’s testimony?
What did the psalmist say he would do?