Prayer and my toothbrush

I started a new job recently, and it’s got me at a flat run. For the past couple of years, I’ve worked from home, which means I could get my work done and still have time for errands, breaks and odd hours. Now, they expect me at work. Everyday. For the WHOLE day. I know what you’re thinking–welcome to the real world, Laura. And it’s not like I haven’t done this before. It’s just that I’d gotten spoiled in recent years.

I started a new job recently, and it’s got me at a flat run. For the past couple of years, I’ve worked from home, which means I could get my work done and still have time for errands, breaks and odd hours. Now, they expect me at work. Everyday. For the WHOLE day. I know what you’re thinking–welcome to the real world, Laura. And it’s not like I haven’t done this before. It’s just that I’d gotten spoiled in recent years.

Working such flexible hours meant I could wake up when I wanted and still take an hour (or two) for my quiet time. I could stop during the day for extended prayer, or take a couple of hours off to attend a Bible study. While I had to get my work done, I could piece together my hours in any configuration I wanted. 

Now, not so much. I’m busy, and rushed, and exhausted when I get home. I stuff errands into my commute, and have ignored all domestic duties for the past week. The temptation to squeeze out time with God is strong, too. It’s not that I want to, of course, but I have so much to do, barely time to brush my teeth, and so rushed, and, and, and…

And then there’s Daniel, who was  a biggie in government and whose days were packed with responsibilities. Yet Daniel 6:10b says "he entered his home, where the windows in his upper room opened toward Jerusalem. Three times daily he was kneeling and offering prayers and thanks to his God just as he had been accustomed to do previously." (And this is when his boss had outlawed it.) Then there’s David, who had luxurious time with God as a shepherd, but still had time to write psalms as a fugitive, then as a king. 

I hear you. Daniel didn’t have to make dinner for the family, and David didn’t have to do the dishes. So then I think of Suzanna Wesley, mother of John and Charles Wesley and 17 other children. Uh huh–19 total. This woman was so overworked and without privacy that she’s put a towel over her head to pray. The kids knew that when Mama had that towel on, they better not interrupt. The priority of prayer rubbed off on them too. It was John Wesley who said, "I have so much to do that I spend several hours in prayer before I am able to do it." 

The funny things is that he’s right. When I spend the time praying, things fall into place. When I skip it as a shortcut, I feel like I’m swimming upstream all day long. As shortcuts go, not praying is about as effective as not brushing your teeth. You might save a couple of minutes up front, but the whole rest of your day stinks. 

So I pray that God will help me to pray, to connect, to tune into His will. Yes, it’s not as convenient as it used to be, and there are more commute-time-prayers than prayer-journal-prayers. I’m back to listening to the Bible on CDs and "checking in" with God throughout the day. I’ve committed to putting prayer on the Toothbrushing List, not the Ironing List
(wait, do I even have an iron? I think I remember buying one a few
years ago…or was that an egg poacher…). 

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go find my towel…