The Gratitude Attitude kicked in at 7:06 A.M. I am so thankful for God’s blessing of an internal time clocks.
My internal alarm clock still works. Once a week or so, I have to test it out, just to see if I still can do it. It may be a couple minutes off here or there, but that is the nice thing about retirement. Time may be speeding up but we aren’t obligated to keep up with it anymore.
Sunday mornings are a good time for me to check out the “alarm clock” since I kinda like getting to church early. Time to pray. Time to center myself. Time for Grace.
I actually taught myself to set my internal clock back in college when there was no such thing as a reliable alarm clock in my life. Either it was broken or I’d forget to set it or I didn’t check the time on the clock to make sure it was right – or one of my rooming-house mates had borrowed it and re-set it for their time..in their room upstairs or downstairs from me.
College in the 70’s was interesting in more ways than one.
“It is good to give thanks to the LORD,
to sing praises to the Most High.
It is good to proclaim your unfailing love in the morning,
your faithfulness in the evening,”
I was thinking about those long ago Sundays this morning as I watched the band and the praise choir assemble on stage. Back in the 70’s I was singing in very formal church choirs, singing amazing choral works usually with my choir director from OSU. Sometimes, he would get me a job as a soloist for other churches, but mostly he kept me busy being a section leader and soloist for him. During sermons, I wrote poetry, or daydreamed, or looked over the music for next week or planned my week or ……..
I think you’ve got the idea. I wasn’t listening too much in church except for the music.
However, there were some Saturdays back then when I would walk to a couple different churches that would offer a time of “folk” worship. All those old camp songs or hymns played with a guitar – usually in a basement – the youth minister wearing bell-bottom jeans (as we all did) – was an interesting change of pace. And during the “talk”, I would write poetry, or daydream…….
“You thrill me, LORD, with all you have done for me!
I sing for joy because of what you have done.
O LORD, what great works you do!
And how deep are your thoughts.
Only a simpleton would not know…”
These days music is secondary. I sit in a chair – not a pew – in jean casual – I kinda sing – but mostly I wait. Not to hear the music. Not to sing the music. To wait. To wait upon the WORD. I don’t write poetry (well not in church – – – much) – I don’t daydream – or any of those other things that seemed so important when I was younger.
I’m thinkin’ I was pretty much a first class simpleton back then.
I do miss standing in a quartet with harmonizing voices. I do miss the dissonance and the harmonics that would ring through my soul and lift me as close to God as I thought was possible. I was wrong. The WORD has transplanted me into the gardens of the LORD’s own house. The music I hear now far surpasses anything I’ve ever experienced.
He is my staff. He is my melody. He is my harmony. He is the rock that my roots wrap around and hold to – – – tightly – – – ever so tightly. He is my Gratitude Attitude in my internal alarm clock.
“But the godly will flourish like palm trees
and grow strong like the cedars of Lebanon.
For they are transplanted to the LORD’s own house.
They flourish in the courts of our God.
Even in old age they will still produce fruit;
they will remain vital and green.
They will declare, “The LORD is just!
He is my rock!
There is no evil in him!”~Ps 92 [google images]