grace given me

I love summer. Every year I look forward to the longer days, warmer weather, fun trips, and the freedom that seems to come with the season. Now that we’re well into the middle of summer, I’m reminded how quickly it all passes. We spend months looking forward to it, and then suddenly we’re talking about back-to-school and fall calendars.

This summer has been especially full for our family. We’ve celebrated one college graduation, packed up another from college, traveled to Hawaii, celebrated milestones, attended a family wedding, and squeezed in a week that was equal parts work and fun in Newport Beach. It’s been filled with so many things I love. 

But somewhere in the middle of all those good things, I noticed something else. My mornings had become less intentional. I could feel a slight drift. 

I’ve learned over the years that drift rarely announces itself. Life fills up with good things that quietly crowd out the best thing. I treasure living closely tethered to Jesus. I enjoy life more—not less—when life feels integrated not separated. Maybe that’s why I noticed the drift. 

I have been reading Hearing God by Dallas Willard this summer, and the timing is perfect. Willard writes that we are called into a conversational relationship with God—an everyday friendship with him. It is causing me to reflect and recognize all the different ways God has been inviting me deeper over the years.

I began with simple faith. I believed God loved me before I understood very much. It was a beautiful place to begin. 

Over time, there were moments when God’s presence became undeniably real. Sometimes in prayer. Sometimes in worship. Moments where I knew he was near, even if I couldn’t explain it.

Then there were seasons where I watched him act. A relationship restored. A prayer answered in a way that couldn’t be dismissed as coincidence. A life undeniably transformed. Those moments built my confidence that God wasn’t distant—he was present and actively at work.

But friendship feels like another invitation altogether. Friends talk with one another. Friends enjoy each other’s presence. Friends know each other. They learn what matters to one another. Over time, they begin to anticipate what the other person loves and values because they genuinely want to please them. As Dallas Willard writes, “When we love people, we want to please them.” We don’t do it out of obligation; we do it because we love them. We want to be part of what matters to them.

Jesus modeled that kind of relationship with his Father. He said, “The Son is not able to do anything on his own, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, the Son likewise does these things” (John 5:19). 

He knew his Father. He knew his heart. 

That has changed the way I’ve been approaching my days. Before I look at my calendar or open my email, I am trying to spend a few minutes reminding myself who God says I am. I rehearse his promises because I want to begin the day from a place of fullness. Then I simply start talking to him about the day ahead.

The people I’ll interact with. The meetings I’m already thinking about. The meals I’ll prepare. The places I’ll go. The decisions I’ll make. I invite him into all of it. Not because I need God to micromanage every moment of my day, but because I want to become more aware of him in every moment of it. Dallas Willard writes, “As God’s friends we always want to be asking God what He is doing and how He wants us to work with Him.”

That sentence has become my morning invitation. Some days I sense his leading clearly. Other days I don’t. I sometimes miss opportunities. I still respond out of my own impatience or agenda more often than I’d like. But that’s true of every friendship. The more time you spend with someone, the more naturally you begin to know what they love, what they value, and how they would respond. 

That’s the kind of friendship I want with Jesus. Not one where I simply ask him to help me accomplish my plans, but one where I become so familiar with his heart that keeping in step with him becomes the most natural way to live. Instead of asking God to bless everything I’ve already planned, I’m learning to ask something different…

“Hey friend…what are we doing today?”

Lord, thank you for inviting us into friendship with you. Help me draw you into my thoughts before the demands of the day draw me in other directions. Fill my heart with the truth of who you are and who I am because of you. Shape my desires until they begin to look more like yours. Teach me to recognize where you are already at work and give me the courage to join you there. Amen.