I’m tempted to rush.
On a rare day when I have this time, the temptation is there to fill it right up with more activity, more going and more doing.
Most days, I don’t have this luxury, of course. It’s the mad morning scramble of toothbrushes, hair brushes, ribbons, bows, socks, shoes, lunches and backpacks to send children out to the bus stop.
Then, zoom into the day with the preschooler and the errands or meetings or Bible studies or appointments or whatever busyness has etched itself onto the schedule.
But this day. This one day.
After I watch my girls step onto that school bus, I return to my home and breathe in and out this uncertain freedom. I don’t have to run out the door. I don’t have to meet an external agenda or deadline right away.
So what to do?
Rush through my home, stuffing laundry into the washing machine and another load in the dryer? Frantically move cereal bowls from sink to dishwasher and then grab the broom (maybe the mop if I’m inspired). Respond to messages. Catch up on the to-do list. Fill out the forms.
So it goes, me filling up this one little space of time with too much, cramming in activity and sitting on the lid in hopes it will fit.
My tea, poured hot this morning turns cold.
My morning devotions, rushed through just to be done, leave me unfilled, uninspired, unopened to what God wants to say.
Too busy…too busy…just always too busy.
But today I consider Joshua.
Moses met with God face-to-face in a tent. A pillar of cloud covered the entrance while the Israelites looked on from the flaps of their own tent dwellings, bowing in worship in the doorways.
When Moses finished talking with God, he returned to the camp to share the message with others.
Not Joshua, though.
“his assistant, the young man Joshua son of Nun, would not leave the inside of the tent” (Exodus 33:11 HCSB).
He wouldn’t budge from the glory and the presence, lingering there stubbornly while others moved along.
What if we chose to linger?
Chose to be Joshua refusing to leave the tent as long as God’s glory electrified the air….chose for this one day to be Mary at the feet of Jesus rather than Martha slamming pots in the kitchen?
Because serving perpetually means serving empty and that means dying of spiritual starvation and dehydration.
We need the Mary moments so we can re-enter the kitchen as Martha and care for others cheerfully and ably until we have that opportunity once again to lay down the dish towel and sit at Jesus’ feet.
It’s not practical, of course.
That crowd of more than 5000 who sat on the hillside listening to Jesus hour upon hour should have been watching the clock. They should have known what time it was and how long they had to travel back for food. They should have abandoned the sermon and packed up their blankets and lawn chairs at a reasonable time so they could eat dinner at a reasonable hour.
But Jesus rewarded their time in His presence.
Had they left early, they would have missed the miracle.
In order to witness God’s glory, they had to wait, they had to sit patiently and linger there until they received.
In Living Beyond Yourself , Beth Moore writes:
“He placed them in a posture to rest in His provision. He commanded them to “sit down” and fed only those who were “seated” (vv. 10-11) . . .”Are you ‘sitting down’ in a posture of trust and sitting quietly to receive it? If so, prepare the baskets!”
For you, it may be a morning, a day….even a season of sitting and waiting on that hillside so you can see His glory, or a season at Jesus’ feet instead of in the kitchen, or a season of lingering in the tent.
Whatever the length of the wait and the stillness, it’s a discipline to rest rather than rush.
When we remain there, though, insistent on lingering where His presence is, we see His glory displayed and He fills us up with the sustenance of His presence and His Word.
Originally published 11/2014