Mercy tastes better than coffee.

Alarm goes off, early. It's been raining all night and I still hear dripping, my nearly-dark room testimony to the the heavy grey of an overcast sky outside.

I've committed afresh to be consistent in my early-morning meetings with God, so (after falling back asleep and waking up almost too late) I will myself out of bed, make a cup of coffee, and retreat to my window seat with Bible and journal.

I'm tired, and I don't have much time before having to get ready for work, so I'm not expecting a very productive quiet time. (Productive meaning being deeply affected by God's word and/or His presence)

But the Lord didn't agree with the conclusions of my faithless, grumbling heart, and this morning He reminded me that He is not predictable.

I'm called to be faithful in meeting with the Lord, but I don't control these interactions with Him. Sometimes He feels distant, and my heart feels cold towards the Word, hardened towards what I should be believing, what I should be feeling. No matter, I'm called to persevere.

I like to think that I'm in control, that I can receive just what I think I need to receive from God when I think I need it. So if I'm faithful in setting aside enough time with Him, He'll reward me, and if I barely leave enough time to read a few verses, He'll be distant, right? Not so.

This morning, reading in the dim light by a rain-washed window, coming before the throne with a heavy heart and a tired mind and a rushed schedule, I was surprised with the very real presence of my Creator and Savior.

Kindness, mercy, a love that reached down into the very depths of my being and spoke words of encouragement and challenge.

So undeserved, so unexpected.

Thank you for this gift, Abba.