Another amazing thing this Spring about my morning devotions would be contrasting them to those of last Spring. What’s different, however, is also what’s not visible. You see, last Spring my times of prayer and meditation were filled with great spiritual angst, worry, and passion. I was in the midst of some fairly intense trials, at home and at work. Situations at the job had become so stressful that I was nearing the conclusion that my social work career of 18 plus years was too much to cope with and it was time to leave. How bad did it get? I actually had an interview about driving a steel hauling truck cross country. For a social worker, that’s about as desperate as it gets!

Meditating on the deck last Spring, I don’t remember much about how pink the Impatiences were or how sweet the cardinal’s song was. I do remember gut-wrenching prayers asking God for some sense of direction about what I was to do concerning my job and pleading for strength for that day. I remember crawling, spiritually "crawling," from each day’s time of morning prayer to the next. I remember combing through every passage of scripture and devotional reading looking for some shred of insight that would help me cope with the pressures at hand. Devotion time had become more like cross-training for the Iron Man Triathlon than a sweet rest and repose from the labors of the day.

One year later, the atmosphere and intensity surrounding my devotion time is noticeably different. The career-ending pressures have ceased. The problems facing both me and my agency were resolved. The ten ton weight on my shoulders was lifted. "Whew!," you might be saying, "Bet you’re glad to meditating on your deck this Spring vs. last?!" I won’t kid you into thinking that the change wasn’t welcome. But I also won’t tell you that my devotional life has the same intensity and focus it did a year ago.

Oh sure. With a backdrop of Spring flowers and songbirds, I still read the Scriptures, reflect on a particular devotional writing, and pray. But I find that I come away from this Spring’s devotion time lacking something. This Spring, I find I’m more easily distracted by the sights and sounds of the backyard. (Was that titmouse or a finch?) I run through the prayer list a little faster, lingering less on each individual’s need. Instead of intently wrestling in prayer with God, it’s more along the lines of friendly arm punching.

Adversity breeds intimacy. Look through the Old and New Testaments. You won’t discover one, single, solitary example that finds someone drawing closely and deeply into God minus the pain and pressure of a life trial. Not one. "For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all." Does that mean I should be asking our Lord for a double helping of grief just so He and I can return to our spiritual "torture training?" Get real! God, thankful, knows how much "heat" and, alternately, how much "salve" to apply. Left to being my own coach, I would probably keep the pressure on far too long and end up breaking down completely. "No pain. No gain." It amazes me how consistently and repeatedly these times of rest have followed the times of trial. Yet I know that just like the trial times, the rest times will not last forever. Spiritual life cycles, rolling toward God’s ultimate goal for each of us: To become like Christ. He knows that every one of our present pains are temporary. Further, He seems most willing to walk us through those temporal trials in order to win eternal benefits.

At almost age 44, there is advantage in living through something more than once. I’m now able to get a little more than halfway through a time of testing and pain before looking up to heaven and asking "Is this ever going to pass Lord?! Are you really paying attention up there to what I’m going through?" [Pause for heavenly sigh] "Tim…remember last Spring?"