Ready Ground

 
Stand your ground, putting on the belt of truth and the body armor of God’s righteousness. For shoes, put on the peace that comes from the Good News so that you will be fully prepared.

Ephesians 6:14-17 NLT

It's twenty minutes 'til. We're ready. Almost. But where are her shoes? We keep them in the bucket by the door so all she has to do is slip them on, strap on that backpack, grab the keys (and the phone!) and get in the car. Even when we're all ready, sometimes even then, we are not.

Last night was evening prep work. Chopping celery, potatoes, and carrots for the crock-pot roast that will be tonight's dinner. Spread sandwiches, pack snacks, and a juice box for her lunch. Gather show-in-tell items. Set the back pack by the door. We do it every night – right? – this routine that keeps everything running like a well-oiled machine. Almost...

We wash.

Load.

Wipe.

Bathe.

Brush.

Dress.

Read.

Pray.

Tuck.

Breath...

It starts all over in the morning. Hurriedly rushing little ones from sleepy dreamland into a battle zone. Hope they have everything they need – and we need – to be successful today. Like many a day, orders bark loud in that tone that teeters on the edge of patient encouragement and scolding nag.

She plops down on the floor amidst scattered dolls, tiny clothes, and even teenier shoes. “Where is Cinderella's glass slipper, Mommy?” Sigh … There it goes...tottering over the cliff with a breeze of provocation. ”I don't know. Hun. Where are your shoes??? We need to get going!” Sweetly nagging.

Learning forbearance in the face of a ticking clock is not the time for the lesson.

Funny. Rewind a couple of hours. My blinky eyes squint open sometime around dawn. I hit snooze. The pillow feels sooo soft and warm. So I soak in a few more winks beneath the down duvet. Several minutes later, the covers are unwrapped and a comforting robe wraps snugly around my sleepy body. Over the side of the bed bare feet search blindly for wool-lined slippers.

Slippered feet shuffle out to my favorite morning spot, and I sink down in the cushions to read and pray.

Worries knot in the stomach like hunger pangs while the coffee maker gurgles and groans. The soul wakes from slumber hungry.

This is when I break the fast between the preparations and the rush. Another day gets plowed through like dry wheat on rocky soil, arid and thirsty, waiting to be cultivated again.

I am the woman at the well. Empty and weary before the day's even begun.

Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.” (John 4:10)

This daily habit of devotional time came from desperate places. On a typical work day, the alarm beeped at 5:30 a.m. waking me to read scripture before getting ready to go teach. Developing a knowledge of the word was my sustenance, readying me to face intense situations as a public middle school teacher.

Put on salvation as your helmet, and take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God (Ephesians 6:17).

As a new mom I was even more desperate for God's word to get me through many weary days and sleepless nights. More than anything, I desired to live the kind of faith that I hoped to teach my child.

Without God's word as a guide the foot slips, stepping easily back into old footholds.

Let even a few days go by without having the bread of the word and prayer, and the hollow places echo like dust poured out of an empty silo. Come back famished and parched for God's tender mercies. Short accounts are necessary. It's hard enough living the day to day.

For the word of God is alive and powerful... So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most (Hebrews 4:12a, 16).

God's word is vital to our well beings. It's no wonder Jesus said he is the bread.

The soul yearns for more of God's truth and presence. Time spent reading the Bible stops feeling like a duty and more like vitality. Breath it in. Drink it deep. Taste and see.

Then Jesus declared, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty” (John 6:35).

There she sits on the floor of her messy room pulling pants over chubby little feet as she sings it loud. “This little light of mine! I'm gonna let it shine! Won't let Satan blow it out! No! I'm gonna let it shine!”

And I smile.

Okay, God. Got it.

We head to the door and find her favorite shoes faithfully waiting to be strapped on. Now we're ready. Step out in peace, little one. Step out in the light, old soul. Tummies full and feet ready.

Your word is a lamp to guide my feet and a light for my path (Psalm 119:105).