The 4:00 a.m. Matins

I am sitting here at four in the morning writing because I am unable to sleep. I have medications that help me fall asleep, but they haven’t done the job tonight. I guess I have too much on my mind.

I’ll call this the 4:00 am matins. I will sing and chant quietly to myself through this essay about the greatness of God and his mercy that endures forever. Getting up in the wee hours has been a routine for certain monks for centuries, singing Psalms in order to draw closer to God. That is why I’m not just grabbing the latest book I am reading, but rather trying to draw closer to God through this pray that I am writing, because all done in his name is a form of prayer, of humble adoration to the One who owns all my time.

There is a quality of silence when you are up before most of the world, at least the world in the neighborhood. Before cars start up and clock alarms blare and coffee percolates. It is a silence that leads me toward the holy place of God’s presence. Sometimes I sit and breathe my prayers quietly. Other times I write them as I am doing now. God’s Spirit is directing my thoughts as I write and in the end, I will have an essay of his to share.

Jesus used to rise early before the din of the day began. He would withdraw from the crowds of the day, from the disciples and go to a quiet place to be alone in prayer with his Father. I can’t count the number of times I have said I would do the same only to end up like Peter, James and John who kept falling asleep in the Garden of Gethsemane when they had been asked to pray. Prayer, the God kind of prayer takes discipline and determination that I simply do not routinely have, sometimes, but mostly not. That is a confession I must make. I am not a prayer warrior like some I have known. Not by a long shot. But I am trying now to connect with my Savior and I know he is awaiting me.

God is a good and gracious God. His mercy endures forever, his steadfast love renewed each day and I am up early to get a chance to come into his presence to prepare my heart for all that he has for me this day. Normally I would be sleeping, but he awakened me to write for him, and so I do. Maybe it is an exhortation to those who have sleepless nights to read the bible rather the latest bestseller. To pray rather than turn on the TV to watch some late night program, to watch the sunrise and rejoice in a new day that God has given as a gift to you. Or maybe it is to write a prayer in a journal with the expectation that you will soon be able to record God’s answer to that prayer.

As I sit here and write, I am aware of his presence and it stirs me. It makes me more keenly aware of how I traipse through my days unaware of his indwelling Spirit. I get too busy and it feels like he gets left behind in my rush to accomplish daily duties. But he isn’t gone, he is still there waiting for me to stop and think of him, if only for a moment. To breathe in his presence and to breathe out my prayer of gratitude for his mercy in my life. To quietly remember the suffering of his Son on my behalf, to experience the humility of knowing how lost I would be without him. It only takes a few moments stolen at lunch or a coffee break to thank him for his daily grace.

I write this as much for me as for others. The Psalms are filled with prayers and hymns that we can use as prayer guides. They speak to the human experience in the search for God’s presence. He is always there. We just need to take a moment and seek. When we do, we will find him. That is his promise.