I set a timer on my phone for five minutes. The same five minutes I always do at the beginning of TAG (Time Alone with God—what most people call devotions). Clear my head, meditate on the Lord, try to quiet my thoughts enough to hear from him if he has something to tell me. Prepare myself for the rest of the hour of prayer, Bible reading, and journaling.
Setting my phone down on the floor next to me, I glance up at the skylight. It is nine in the evening and still light, which feels like a miracle after being in Uganda, where it grows dark at seven in the evening without fail, year round. Clouds blanket this Dutch city, holding in the chill, which is why I am wearing my fleece onesie as I sit.
Meditate.
Be still and know that I am God.
Inhale… exhale… Father.
Inhale… exhale… Jesus.
Inhale… exhale… Spirit.
You. Are. God.
Inhale… exhale… Father.
Inhale… exhale… Jesus.
Inhale… exhale… Patricia is still awake, I can hear it. I put her in bed half an hour ago, late for her, but we were running late with everything this evening. She is reading. Well, “reading.” This afternoon she fell asleep with a book draped across her stomach, a position with which I am very familiar and proud to have seen on my two-year-old. Her voice is so sweet. What is she saying? When I told her I was going to read my Bible she also asked for her Bible, so I know she has her little cardboard Bible-counting book.
But wait, I am still meditating.
Inhale… exhale… Spirit.
You. Are. God.
Inhale.. exhale… Father.
Inhale… What other stories about Thomas should I include in my half-written blog post? There are so many about him, but how many can I remember well enough to vividly recount? I wish I had had time to finish it already. What I wouldn’t give for an hour or two of silence—during the day, when I am not worn out at night—to just write. Without interruption. Without background noise. How I miss being able to concentrate. My writing has really gone downhill since having children. Something about only being able to write two consecutive sentences at a time—
Oh wait. These five minutes are for God. Get those other things out of my head.
Inhale… exhale… Jesus.
Inhale… exhale… Spirit. It was really fun to talk with the other mom at the playground this morning. Christian said he was proud of me for striking up a conversation in Dutch with someone I didn’t know, and keeping it going without her suspecting (at least to my knowledge) that I am not from around here. Well okay, I did mention I live in Uganda so she knows I don’t live around here, but it’s still possible she thinks I am from somewhere else in the Netherlands. Funny, when most people hear that I live in Uganda they start to ask questions and be interested, but she didn’t pry into that. We just talked about our kids. Why didn’t she want to know more?
Ugh, that is one hundred percent not the point of this time.
You. Are. God.
Inhale… It was really fun to see Ineke and Claudia today. How refreshing to spend hours talking to people who are familiar with Noah’s Ark and Uganda and not needing to explain the basics of what we do and what the organization is. I’m so happy they could come.
Oh, come on, Katie…
Inhale… exhale… Father.
Inhale… exhale… Jesus.
Inhale… exhale… Spirit.
You. Are. God.
Shoot, I wanted to prepare a lot of tomorrow’s cooking tonight. I could have made the potato salad tonight, even the bean burgers to put in the fridge so that tomorrow while the kids are awake I don’t need to spend my time cooking. But I also want to go to bed in time so I can wake up early to do TAG and go for a run in the morning, and I know from experience that if I don’t go to bed early enough it dashes my chances of being able to start my day in a very positive way. Then I won’t stay up late cooking tonight, but I can at least get the frozen hamburger buns out of the freezer before I go to bed.
Oh wow. God, are you frustrated with me yet? If I were you, I would leave me alone and go listen to the prayers of all your children in Afghanistan who are running for their lives—for you. Am I really getting distracted from you by frozen hamburger buns and cookies I didn’t remember to bake? How can I let myself do that? What does that say about the place I give you? What kind of Christianity do I have compared to those in Afghanistan?
Inhale… exhale… Father.
Inhale… exhale… Jesus.
Inhale… exhale… Spirit.
You. Are. God.
Inhale… exhale… Father. My hands feel really dry.
Inhale… exhale… Jesus.
Inhale… exhale… Spirit. Patricia stopped talking. I am willing to bet she fell asleep. It makes me so happy that most nights she falls asleep without a fight.
Agh—
You. Are. God.
Why do we need to sort the trash in the Netherlands? It is so complicated, what goes in each bin and what counts as plastic and what doesn’t, that I know they need to sort it again at the plant (or wherever it is the trash goes). Wouldn’t it be even easier to throw everything together and they can sort it all—
Timer.
Five minutes.
For God.
Only maybe not.
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