The clock leered with its Cheshire grin, as if daring me to attempt another half hour of sleep. 4:30 am. It waited to pounce; it gathered its breath to unleash its unrelenting alarm at the stroke of 5 am. I didn’t give my nemesis the satisfaction.
I quietly rose. So tired–so grateful for another opportunity to press more deeply into this story God is crafting.
Most people are creatures of habit. I am no exception. After a quick breakfast and morning preparations, I made the commute across the city to my place of employment. Even then it was early. My day launched into routine greetings, preparations, and necessary conversations. Each element was a familiar part of the daily rhythm. And then I departed in my truck, making my scheduled stops throughout the metropolitan area.
Conversations, problem solving, heavy lifting and material handling, executing responsibilities…all in a day’s work. They are intentional daily rhythms which ensure accurate, safe, and timely transit of materials to their intended destinations. Through it all I keep in mind my responsibility to represent my employer well, and to exhibit character which demonstrates that I am an ambassador for Jesus Christ. It’s not always easy in a broken world with people who have no interest in such things.
It requires intentional discipline
to show grace, rather than sarcasm and spite when dealing with difficult people.
to forgive someone even when they don’t seek it or see the need for it.
to remain professional and on task when others try to draw you into their drama.
to maintain poise under pressure.
to seek to be like Jesus, rather than default to carnal responses.
Intentional daily rhythms…proving grounds for learning to do life with the unreached in the margins. If I am going to continue learning to pursue life and mission with the people whom Jesus misses most, then what better place to start than in the daily routines of my life among those same people throughout the city?
The hour grows late. Another early morning awaits, prodding me to focus my prayers and preparations with all the more diligence. The time is short, far shorter than my seemingly sentient alarm clock likely realizes.
My thoughts are focused on Jesus as I take the posture of one of his ever-so-needy disciples, and toward those whom he now seeks to make his disciples through the witness he is depositing in my life and that of my local church community.