This is my favorite kind of morning. Overcast. When I wake up and see gray skies, I get up and turn on every (and I mean every) little lamp in our house. And then I feel cozy. Cozy is one of my most favorite feelings in the whole wide world.
And on a weekend, I love waking up when my body is ready to wake up. Not when his is.
This is Newmis. He looks cute, but not around 5 am. He likes to meow about 75 times in less than a minute to tell me he's hungry. But thanks to him, once I was up, I couldn't go back to sleep.
So I did something this morning that I rarely do. After I showered, I went into the backyard and slipped into our jacuzzi. So unbelievably peaceful. The whole neighborhood was still asleep, the birds were just starting to stir, and it was truly just so peaceful.
(This was my view. See all those little nests up there?)
When I got in, the jets were already on as they're on a timer that I don't know how to turn off. But as soon as they shut off, I heard nothing but the subtle sounds of nature.
Where I grew up, all we had were little brown sparrows. And the only time we saw them was when we were eating outside at McDonalds. We would break off pieces of our French fries and toss them to the awaiting birds. But where we live now, there's an abundance of different kinds of birds.
I heard the pecking of a woodpecker in the tree behind my fence. Once I heard his little taps on the tree, I saw him doing his thing. So neat. I heard a hummingbird zip by my head and onto the branch above me. When they sit still, it's amazing to see how long their little beaks are. I heard a squirrel scratching himself relentlessly as if he had a case of poison ivy. I even heard the cackle (is that what they do?) as ducks flew over me probably from the lake near our home. And this was all in just a few early morning minutes.
But it got me thinking. I'm in my backyard a lot. And I rarely hear any of this. The radio is playing on our patio, this guy is chomping on his bones
loudly, I might add,
or there's a construction crew somewhere cutting down a tree.
But that doesn't mean that these sounds aren't there. It just means that I don't hear them.
And that thought made me want to blog.
I hear from God when I'm quiet. Not when I'm buzzing around from errand to errand, but when I sit with Him, just the two of us without any distractions. That's when I hear Him the most.
If we went out into our backyard tomorrow when the kids at school across the street are out at recess, when my neighbor's construction crew is putting in their new pool and my Chris Tomlin CD is blaring a little too loudly on our backyard speakers, we most likely would never hear the woodpecker's little taps. They're there. We just woudn't hear them.
I think it's the same with God's voice. We can't hear it when its competing with so many other sounds. Voices. Stuff.
But when we take His hand and bring Him to the shores of a beach, to the top of a hill, to the pews of a church or to a chair in your backyard, and lay our needs at His feet, He will hear you. And in His time, you will hear Him.
And there's nothing I love and crave more than His voice.
So if you have a hard time waking up before your family and need a little nudge to find some quiet time with God, I can always drop this guy off at your house.