I remember when quiet time in the morning felt like an obligation—like something I had to do to prove my devotion. It carried pressure, expectation, and duty. “Give God your first,” they said. And while I understood the intent, it often felt forced, like a demand rather than an invitation.
But now? Now, when I wake and settle into meditation, reflection, and gratitude, I do it not because I must, but because I get to. I do it because it feels like loving myself well. Because in stillness, I am met with Love. In quiet, I am held by Peace. In presence, I am reminded of the depth of who I am and who Love is within me.
It no longer feels like a struggle, a box to check, or a sacrifice to prove my faithfulness. It is a rhythm of grace, a space where Love meets me, where I get to simply be—with Love, in Love, and as Love.
And isn’t that the truth of it? Love is never demanding. Love is never transactional. Love simply is.
I used to think that God needed my time in a certain way, at a certain hour, with a certain posture. But the truth is, Love has never been about performance. Love is always about presence. And when I sit in the quiet, I realize that all of it—meditation, reflection, gratitude, peace—is already rooted in Love. Even in the busyness of life—work, cooking, traffic, dinners, and outings, whether alone or surrounded by family and friends—Love is always here, steady and present.
I don’t have to strive to be in Love’s presence. I already am.
And in this, I remember—Jesus, the Prince of Peace, left us His peace. A peace that flows, not as the world gives, but as Love freely offers. A peace that is steady, unwavering, and whole. A peace that is not earned but received.
I remember the moment I felt Love—really felt it. Back in 2016, when I asked Papa (God) to experience His love, and it came crashing over me in waves. By the third day, I thought my heart would burst. And Love whispered, “This doesn’t even touch the surface of how much I love you.”
That Love has marked me. That Love has changed me. That Love is within me.
And that is the Love I long to pour out into the world—to my husband, my children, my grandchildren, my family, my friends, the strangers I meet along the way. I want the essence of my life to scream LOVE. Because there is so much pain in this world, and people need to know—really know—how deeply, how endlessly, how wholly they are loved.
And so, I begin my day in Love. Not because I have to. But because Love is who I am. And more than anything, Love is the legacy I want to leave behind.
1. How has your perspective on spending time with Love (God) shifted over the years? Do you approach it as an obligation or an invitation?
2. In what ways can you cultivate more presence in your daily life, recognizing that Love is always with you?
3. What kind of legacy do you want to leave behind?