Addicted

But whenever you pray, go into your room, close the door, and pray to your Father in secret. And your Father, who sees in secret, will reward you. (Matthew 6:6 NET_FL)

I’m addicted and I need my fix. Everyday I sneak away for one-on-one time with the Creator of the universe. How could a frozen wanderer give up that patch of sunshine? Should I let deadlines, or travel, or guests invade our intimacy? Call me obsessive, but I’ll contrive a way to get what I crave.

It’s not that I’m disciplined—I’m desperate. When it comes to fighting temptation I’m as fierce as a trembling schoolgirl. Without a daily breath from the Lord, I’m sure to faint. So I draw near to him and inhale every morning, then I pray that puff will stay inside me.

Some years ago the Lord led me to two books by Christian role models who told how their lives changed when they had devotions at 5:00 a.m. I groaned and made a half-hearted commitment to try it. I didn’t set an alarm. The next few mornings I found myself awake at 5:00 a.m. and rose for my devotion time. Previously boring Scriptures now rang in my heart. On-my-face prayer emptied me of self then filled me with the Spirit. Abba Father honored a sacrifice of time set apart while the world slept.

After several years, a new threat crept in. My mornings became disciplined for discipline’s sake, not for the Lord. Jesus wants obedience in joy, not habit in drudgery. He knows I can’t live without our meetings so now he sets the day’s schedule, which sometimes includes more than one quiet time.

That’s the secret compulsion I can’t shake. Inside my prayer closet, God gets on his knees, puts his mouth to my ear, and whispers his message. It’s an addiction I’ll never fight.

Prayer: Lord, thank you for coming to me each day.