I Quit My Job

I look over at my alarm clock and groan.  It’s numbers glared malevolently across the room.  “You’ve got to be kidding me, Lord!”During a week of silent prayer at Gohop we laid down our present mode of operations before the Lord and waited for new instructions for the new season.  We didn’t want to transplant what we had been doing at the old location, but rather participate in what we saw the Father doing in Waterdown.“More than the watchmen waits for dawn – my soul waits for you to come,” Hmmm, there it was again.  I had sensed a gentle invitation to the morning watch – coming out to the House of Prayer in the wee hours to commune with God and to pray for the community.  I asked the Lord – should I do five days a week?  The Still Small Voice responded.  Seven.Seven?Every day?  What about my days off?Waitaminit!  Since when had worshipping/praying/seeking the Lord become a job?Mike Bickle, from the House of Prayer in Kansas City calls it a “professional spirit”.  When communion becomes duty.  When the House of Prayer becomes something you do rather than something you are.  I knew I had it when I went to the cottage for two weeks and took “time off” prayer, meditation, and the word.  What is that?I knew what I had to do.Well, repent, to begin with.Then I quit my job.And began a lifestyle of seeking, gazing, beholding.  Seven days a week.Sounds glamorous and deeply spiritual (can you see my halo?), but easier said than done.  Sighing, I rise from my bed and shuffle to the bathroom.  Your mercies are new every morning – and I’m sure going to need them!