The stirring happens a bit after five. An awakeness stumbles into my sleep and jars me. I look at my husband’s clock, automatically doing the eight-minute math to make up for his funny time sensitivity that propels him to set his clock fast (as if time actually changes).
Not time to rise, so I roll over and push the alertness aside, seeking instead another half hour of sleep. Then, before I know it, the alarm is going off and I’m pushing the snooze. Too early. Too sleepy. Must. Get. Rest.
Now I’m reflecting on what would have happened if I’d obeyed the waking sensation at 5:15 and rose early to pray.
Not that rising early and praying is the ticket to answered prayer or a deeper spiritual life.
But how often do we miss the Spirit’s invitation because it’s inconvenient?
There’s always a good excuse not to get on our knees, and the best solution is to live on our knees. That is, bend the heart down and keep it there. Maintain that submissive posture to the Lord sometimes literally, but always metaphorically.
Kneeling is a posture of surrender, respect. All too often, we want to kneel only to ourselves and our own ideas. We’ve untethered ourselves from authority, making our hearts our own guide, doing what is right in our own eyes. And this is a problem.
Getting back on our knees and living from this position of submission reminds us that we answer to a higher authority. The highest authority. Jesus Christ, King of Kings.
Paul writes that someday every knee will bow to Jesus. Let’s bow now, before we don’t have a choice. Let’s live in that posture of humility.
So whether you actually drag yourself out of bed in the morning and fall to your knees, or whether your heart sits quiet at the cross of Christ during your lunch hour, get on your knees and stay there. Even as you walk about your routine, limp along injured from disappointments, and make the final sprint to bedtime.