To accommodate the quiet time, I got up an hour early to pray. I had a small notebook with pages upon pages of people and situations to pray for. Once you got on my list, you didn't get off. Even dying didn't take you off, because then I prayed for your family.And being a dutiful pray-er, I would ask God what he wanted from me. Most times I would go on and on about how I wanted to be used by Him, suggesting different things that I was interested in.
But sometimes – sometimes – I would shut up and just listen. Be still. Try not to think of anything. Well, of course, I would have these random thoughts go through my head."I wonder if Alice ever found her other shoe."
"Surely Mark has finally picked up his room.""I need to tell David about that funny noise the car is making."
Or people's names would float through my mind or their circumstances."I hope Mable is feeling better."
"I wonder if Randy got that job he applied for.""The preacher looked a little pale last Sunday. I hope he's okay."
And I would try my best to ignore them all. They were intruding upon my quiet time, and we couldn't have that, now, could we?One day it occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, those thoughts were the answers I had been looking for. I had asked God to use me, and then I ignored his directions to me!
Perhaps I thought of Mable because she could use a call from me or a note to cheer her up. I could call Randy and ask about his job situation. I could stop by the church office and look in on the preacher.I came to call those thoughts "holy thoughts." They are not mine. I'm not that bright.
But God is. And He loves us so.