The Undisciplined Christian Life

The list scrolls through my head of the myriad ways I could spend the next 40 minutes. There's homework, prayer, floor events. Treasury Op, phone calls  home, letters to be written. There are books on my shelf eager to be read in leisure (which I'm increasingly learning does not exist naturally), papers waiting to be written and people eager to engage with. The floor need swept, the laundry done and we won't even start talking about the state of my bathroom — let alone my own lack of hygiene at the moment.

And yet, with this sea of things to do cluttering my brain cells, I am refreshed and open-eyed. I should be exhausted. I promised myself a nap, and yet, here I sit mere inches from my bed, gazing out my window — at a brick wall. But I can't stop smiling.

A professor mentioned last night that there is a different kind of prayer than petition. She talked about being with God, enjoying his company, resting with him.

I was stunned that we needed to cover this. I thought that was the essence of the Christian life, but judging by the looks around the room, this was a foreign, and not too welcome, concept. Time with God, in the minds of my academic classmates, involved lists and study and discipline.

In Greek class today, my professor, who gives me more homework than I have in any other class, talked about how Americans work too much. Its was a beautiful irony. His point was that we thrive on our to-do lists and gain pleasure out of crossing things out. Americans are defined by their labors and find it difficult to rest.

I am an American. Behind my internet browser is a vibrant, colorful calendar of all the things scheduled in my life, with a list too long display beside it, offering each of the things I need to do: Greek homework, run to the Bank, talk to Professors. I live by my agenda. I wake up each morning, scan the calendar and embed the image on the forefront of my brain so that I may go from one task to the next without missing a beat.

Yet, somewhere along the line, I learned to savor the sweetness of God. If you ask me about my quiet times, I would tell you I never miss them; they saturate my day. If you asked me how frequently I read my Bible, I would shamefully tell you that there are days its not read. If you asked me about intercession, I would inform you that I have a list, but that I don't always lift it before God.

Those are my weaknesses, and things I need to work on, yet I am so grateful that my life is filled with a God who loves being with me. I don't have to study his Word to live in his Word. I don't have to have an agenda to enter his presence: he dwells with me always. And that is reason enough to take a few moments away from my discipline and soak up his holiness.