My son, John, slept through the night last night -- still a rare enough event to celebrate. This morning he woke up around six, and my husband (already awake) got him up. I lay in bed for a few minutes praying and listening to John cry. It hit me -- how could I pray while my husband was handling our crying son alone? It felt hypocritical -- and that if I really want to love God, then I'll love those who are close to me as well as I can. (Isn't this a 1 John thought?) To be really loving, I thought, I can at least see if there's anything I can do. So of course I got up -- couldn't lounge in bed any longer with that idea in my head!
Everything was fine. And now I'm aware of how I sometimes use "quiet time" as an escape from dealing with the people or situations God has put into my life. Prayer as a way of avoiding responsibility -- yikes.