Quiet Times (TM)
I grew up in the golden age of the Quiet Time Craze. If you attended an evangelical church in the United States between 1994 and 2000 (approximately), you know exactly what I’m talking about. I’m not sure who invented it, but everyone was being told that the solution to every spiritual problem - and many non-spiritual problems as well – was certainly the absence of a Quiet Time. Feeling lonely and depressed? You need to have a Quiet Time. Work or school stressing you out? Quiet Time. Marriage troubles? Quiet Time. Can’t lose weight? You get my drift.
I don’t mean to rip on people who I’m sure genuinely desired to impress the importance of daily prayer and study of Scripture. For sure, these are important disciplines. But (and I know I’m not alone on this) during my youth group years it was never really explained to me what one is supposed to do during their Quiet Time. Read your Bible and pray, I guess. I just knew that goshdarnit, I’d better be having one. Every day. Even on Sundays before church.
It wasn’t until I had been in college for a few years that the lightbulb started to come on. Somehow I stumbled upon Richard Foster’s excellent book, Celebration of Discipline. Foster’s step by step explanation of the Christian spiritual disciplines – their origins, theological underpinnings, and place in the believer’s life – is probably one of the most eye-opening experiences of my faith journey. I re-read the book a few times in college and am currently reading through it with my girlfriend as we seek to lay a firm foundation for our future life together. The chapters on solitude and silence had the most impact on me, and I think they’re infinitely relevant in the noisy, busy, high-speed culture we live in. Practicing silence in the midst of the chaos is a valuable skill.
I need to confess that I’m an on-again, off-again Quiet-timer. Truth be known, I was terrible at it in college due to no extra time and no extra sleep. My faithfulness to Scripture and prayer got better for a few months after college, but fell off again during an awful two-month period in which my girlfriend moved away, I lost my job and my dog died. I substituted silently yelling at God for a while.
Since moving to East Phillips in June, my hunger for the Word and for the moments of intimacy with Jesus has roared to life. I find that the more deeply contaminated I become by the relationships I’m making here, the more desperate I become for the context and steadiness of Scripture. It’s gotten so drastic that I’ve started having Quiet Times again. Well, they aren’t really Quiet Times. A better way to put it is that I’ve started exercising, using the spiritual disciplines. I wake up, shut off my alarm, and dive into prayer before my body has time to realize that it’s half asleep. I’ve been using Charles Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening as a devotional guide and I highly recommend it.
I am, as always, a work in progress. Lately, though, I’ve felt a little more full, a little more deep. And a little more alive.
I don’t mean to rip on people who I’m sure genuinely desired to impress the importance of daily prayer and study of Scripture. For sure, these are important disciplines. But (and I know I’m not alone on this) during my youth group years it was never really explained to me what one is supposed to do during their Quiet Time. Read your Bible and pray, I guess. I just knew that goshdarnit, I’d better be having one. Every day. Even on Sundays before church.
It wasn’t until I had been in college for a few years that the lightbulb started to come on. Somehow I stumbled upon Richard Foster’s excellent book, Celebration of Discipline. Foster’s step by step explanation of the Christian spiritual disciplines – their origins, theological underpinnings, and place in the believer’s life – is probably one of the most eye-opening experiences of my faith journey. I re-read the book a few times in college and am currently reading through it with my girlfriend as we seek to lay a firm foundation for our future life together. The chapters on solitude and silence had the most impact on me, and I think they’re infinitely relevant in the noisy, busy, high-speed culture we live in. Practicing silence in the midst of the chaos is a valuable skill.
I need to confess that I’m an on-again, off-again Quiet-timer. Truth be known, I was terrible at it in college due to no extra time and no extra sleep. My faithfulness to Scripture and prayer got better for a few months after college, but fell off again during an awful two-month period in which my girlfriend moved away, I lost my job and my dog died. I substituted silently yelling at God for a while.
Since moving to East Phillips in June, my hunger for the Word and for the moments of intimacy with Jesus has roared to life. I find that the more deeply contaminated I become by the relationships I’m making here, the more desperate I become for the context and steadiness of Scripture. It’s gotten so drastic that I’ve started having Quiet Times again. Well, they aren’t really Quiet Times. A better way to put it is that I’ve started exercising, using the spiritual disciplines. I wake up, shut off my alarm, and dive into prayer before my body has time to realize that it’s half asleep. I’ve been using Charles Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening as a devotional guide and I highly recommend it.
I am, as always, a work in progress. Lately, though, I’ve felt a little more full, a little more deep. And a little more alive.
This entry was posted
on Monday, August 22, 2005 at 6:29 PM.
