* Java with Abba series*

This series shares intimate journal entries of coffee time with Father God.

Up Before the Chickens

It’s 5 am, one of those mornings where Father God is tugging at my heart to leave my comfy bed and come spend time with him. His loving presence ever so gently soothes my soul. The sunrise won't occur for another hour. However, he nudges me to get up, knowing how I love to see the pictures he paints in the sky. Thankfully, Abba created coffee for these pre-sunrise moments.

I’ve learned in these encounters to ask my Father questions, then patiently await his answers while enjoying java. What is it he wants to talk to me about in our undisturbed time together? What is it my Heavenly Father wants to shed light on this morning? His presence is mighty, yet so tender. I can feel my heart soften, unencumbered, as tears trickle down my cheeks. This is a healing place I’ve been before. I know the love and compassion he extends in these in-depth invitations. I’m uncertain what nook and cranny of my heart into which he is about to shine his truth, light, and love. However, I sense I am about to receive healing in an area only he can touch. Even though I am clueless to what needs healed, he knows it is time. It’s a vulnerable place, fully exposed, nothing hidden from my Father. It’s a depth of surrender which would terrify if I had I not previously experienced his relentless faithfulness.

In similar experiences, I know the miraculous comfort, freedom, and peace on the other side of what he is about to do, which gives me courage to yield. He is not in a rush and gradually intensifies his loving presence.

In this place, nothing can harm me. No earthly cares matter. I am safe with Abba Father. I lack nothing. Without a spoken word, somehow there are levels of healing taking place deep within. My mind can’t figure it out, so I stop trying. The need to understand fades and the desire to surrender brings an even stronger presence and peace. His glory is so weighty, all I want to do is lie down on the floor. A fleeting thought ... my aging body probably won’t appreciate floor time. I could be there for hours. It wouldn’t be the first time.

When my Father does heart surgery, he does it thoroughly, his perfect timing, his delicate touch. So down I go to the hard floor. I’ve learned the lower I am willing to go, the deeper and deeper he will flow. I will arise, new and improved, more loving, more patient, more kind. More free to be all he intended me to be.