Today is election day. I didn’t do early voting, so I decided to show up at my local polling station at 5:45am, to beat the crowds. I think I was seventh in line. There was a chatty bunch already there. One woman was sitting down and knitting. By 6:00 there were 15 to 20 people there. Poll workers kept walking by and commenting that they had never seen anything like this.
It feels like an ominous day. I am deeply concerned about where the country is heading. I feel like we are all in a colossal bus that is hurtling toward a fork in the road, a fork we reach today. At this fork, the bus is going to take one of two very different roads. However, there is no driver. Which way the bus will go depends on which way the majority of us in the bus lean. And there are so many of us that my leaning has only the most infinitesimal effect on the bus as a whole
While I was waiting in line for the poll to open, I was praying the prayer for the lesson I’m doing today. The prayer goes like this:
This day, my Father, would I spend with You,
As You have chosen all my days should be.
And what I will experience is not
Of time at all. The joy that comes to me
Is not of days nor hours, for it comes
From Heaven to Your Son. This day will be
Your sweet reminder to remember You,
Your gracious calling to Your holy Son,
The sign Your grace has come to me, and that
It is Your Will I be set free today.
I love this prayer. I have used it almost as much as any other prayer in the Workbook. I couldn’t help noticing that it, too, framed today as an important day. But in the prayer, today is important for very different reasons. It is important not because of some unique event happening this day, but because I have finally made today what God has “chosen all my days should be.” And it is joyful not because of some event within time-such as my candidate winning-but because of me tapping into what is outside of time. “The joy that comes to me is not of days nor hours, for it comes from Heaven to Your Son.”
What a different sort of day this is than sitting on pins and needles waiting to see which road the bus will take. Instead, I can spend the day with God, receiving His Love which flows from Heaven to His Son (me), thus bypassing worldly events altogether.
I don’t want to suggest, however, that today’s worldly events do not matter. My experience of guidance has convinced me, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the Holy Spirit cares very deeply about things like the direction of the country.
So I’m trying to have two days today. One of my days is on that bus as we hurtle ominously toward that fork in the road. But the other day is lifted high above the bus, above the battleground, where God and I just dwell together, and I experience a joy that “is not of days nor hours,” a day that is what God has chosen “all my days should be.”
I am counting on that second day to make the first one a little easier.