The past three days have comprised one of the most academically unproductive weekends I have experienced in quite some time. I took the GRE on Friday, and subsequently, my brain decided to go on strike. This morning I literally stayed in my bed for an hour or so after I woke up simply because I knew what getting up meant, and I did NOT want to study for that neuroscience test on Thursday. After wasting another hour with my sketchbook and a cup of tea, I decided to get to work. (don't laugh, but this was about 9:45 AM)
Oddly enough, the Lord decided this would be an excellent time to tell me several things, or more specifically, to answer several questions that I had been bringing to Him in prayer for quite a while. Just as I would pull out the flashcards or open my book, He would distract my attention. I would have to write down His words, search for a keyword on BibleGateway, or pull an old journal off the bookshelf to read what I had written on whichever date or in whatever ink color He gave me. It was a beautiful time, and I could feel His laughter as I began to grow mildly frustrated with all the interruptions. There were several instances in which I assumed He was finished, and I would drop my journal on the ground defiantly, only to pick it back up three minutes later.
So often I find myself, in keeping with sound advice, striving to set aside chunks of time to spend with Jesus, but it seems that our sweetest and most intimate moments happen according to His schedule rather than mine. Try as I might, I cannot twist His arm.
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