Monday, May 25, 2009

Monday's Meditation: Waking Up

When I was young I depended on other people to wake me up.

My mother would tip-toe into my room and call my name softly, with a voice that was more of a question than a command: “Ray?” . . . Pause. “Ray?!?” . . . Another pause. “It’s time to get up, Darling.” Quiet pause. “Your breakfast is ready.”

My father, on the other hand, didn’t even use the doorknob. The door would burst open, hit the wall, and vibrate in place. He snapped the light on. It shone like a spotlight. With the voice of a thousand waters my Dad would say, “Get up! We’re leaving in ten minutes!”

Now I am older, and most mornings God is there to meet me as I open my eyes. I am beginning to experience what Isaiah wrote:
He wakens me morning by morning,
wakens my ear to listen like one being taught.
These words come from Isaiah 50:4, which are surely about Jesus.

I like to imagine how Jesus woke up each day. I imagine that he began his day with the voice of God in his ear. Not as a some structured discipline, where he would drag himself into the Father’s presence. No, I like to imagine that Jesus opened his eyes, and immediately tuned his ear to hear the one voice that mattered more than any other.

It’s the voice I want to hear first each day.


  1. From my friend Eddie Chinn:

    Oh, how I remember my Dad waking me up in the same manner. I'm a deep sleeper by nature so sometimes he had to try other methods that would eject me out of my sleep faster than a jet pilot speeding towards the ocean surface.

    In contrast, I think sometimes we can get so engrossed in our own self being that we become quite comfortable and occupied. What follows are other "alternate" methods that are more drastic so as to wake us up, but they come with a price.

    May we not get so settled in our "slumber" to the point that we miss His voice and the opportunities we might have to reach others outside our own environment.

  2. I find myself somewhere in the middle of your parents' approach. My 4-year old twins have no problem getting up; it's my 5-year old who kicks and refuses to get out of bed. So I gently walk in and tell her: "It's time to get up, Chloe. I'm going to count to twenty nicely. If you're not up by then, it will be the hard way."

    Works about half the time. The other half just gets ugly.