“It’s been a lot harder to do my devos lately,” Samantha said.
She and I were sitting on the scarlet couch in her living room, along with the other women in our small group. We had split up from our spouses for prayer requests, and Samantha was sharing hers.
She shifted her newborn in her lap. Thea was the second child; Samantha handled her with the nonchalance of practice. I’d tried to hold the baby for a minute—half longing for her squishy warmth, half-afraid I’d do it wrong.
True to my fear, Thea started whimpering almost immediately. I handed her back, my face aflame with embarrassment.
Samantha stood up, slinging the baby over her shoulder, swaying back and forth with practiced ease. “With two kids, there’s less time for everything. But I really want to be in the Word every day, you know? So pray I can make it a priority.”
We all nodded, but I felt a pinch in my stomach. I felt like I should raise my hand and confess that I didn’t make “devos” a priority myself.
Samantha spoke of spending time with God with the same sort of nonchalance she cared for her baby. A nonchalance borne of practice and discipline. That word, “devo,” summed it up: casual, fond, easy.
But I didn’t even have kids, and I couldn’t make myself read my Bible every day. I had hours to write and read for my Master’s degree. I had time to vacuum and sew and even try to plant a vegetable garden. I had time to worry I wasn’t using time well enough.
Enough time wasn’t the problem.
So I must be lazy, right?
I’m at SheLoves today, talking about laying down my yardstick and settling into God’s lap instead. Won’t you join me?
Image courtesy SheLoves
Why I don’t think every Christian has to read the Bible