For the last ten years, I have lived as a single man in a big house, and my only constant companion has been Aslan, my German Shepherd Dog. For longer than I can remember, my daily routine has been fairly consistent. I wake up slowly at 8:00am, make lots of coffee, and spend two hours in complete silence, praying, studying scripture, reading spiritual classics, and meditating on what I hear from God. After devotions, I use the first part of my day to write sermons, lectures, Bible studies, and articles. In order to be at my best, I need more… You guessed it… uninterrupted silence. Unless there is something pressing, I usually do not enter the busy world of meetings, classes, appointments, and visits until around 1:00pm. This discipline of devoting the first half of my day to devotions and creative projects has made an incredible difference in my quality of life and leadership, and I have come to cherish this time.

However, on August 8th, I became the joyful husband of Emma and the proud “2Pop” (stepfather) of Isaac (5) and Evie (3). This week has been unique because we are at the tail end of summer break, and Emma had to return to work early for new teacher training at McKeel Academy. To save $150 in childcare expenses, I decided to stay home with the kids and work around structured times of fun with them. This has created some challenges in practicing the routine mentioned above, and it is precisely through these challenges that God spoke to me.

This morning, I asked the kids to give me one hour for devotions, and I intentionally exercised patience, praying through the noise from the living room. For the first time in a long time, I was finally doing what I had been asking moms to do for years in my sermons on prayer. It’s not that I was completely unprepared to be Mr. Mom for two weeks. After all, I raised two little boys, Jobe and Jackson, and had already had several conversations with Emma about what it would be like to co-parent small children again under the same roof. The fact that I love Isaac and Evie as my own children makes this adjustment a joy, but it is still an adjustment.

During my meditation time, I had a powerful insight: My first responsibility as a pastor is to be a decent human being. As soon as I began to ponder it, I heard a knock at the door. I stayed silent. The door opened, and I heard 10 small feet walking all around me. It was Evie, with two dogs in her wake. Amid the jingle of collars and the sounds of panting and scratching, I heard a voice: “Mawk, I’m thirsty.” God said, “Be a decent human being,” so with my eyes still closed, I gently put my arm around Evie, smiled, rubbed her back, and said, “Give me just a few more minutes until my meditation timer goes off.” She said, “Ooook” and walked away, leaving me with two excited dogs and an open doorway through which sound could flood in without restraint. I thought about yelling across the house, “Evie, shut my door,” but again I heard a still, small voice say to me, “Be a decent human being in this situation without trying to change it.” God was calling me in this moment not to be a decent human being as a pastor but as a father, and I was obedient. After my timer went off, I asked Evie to close my door so I could say my final prayer. Halfway through, right after I said, “Lord, empty me of myself,” she came barreling in again. I slowly opened my eyes and saw her beautiful, innocent, yet mischievous face, and all I could do was chuckle as my heart smiled. God helped me see that I was meditating for Evie and Isaac today.

This is the fruit of meditation: it empowers us to be decent human beings toward everyone we meet, including those we love and those who frustrate us most. The spiritual giants of ages past help us see the importance of setting aside a specific time each day for meditation, because it is here that we experience a much-needed emotional and spiritual clearing. For a brief time, we detach from the world, surrender all distractions, and die to self in a recreating silence. But all of this is for the purpose of intimate communion with God, so that the peace, love, and joy we experience in His presence can become a way of life in service to others. When we open our eyes after meditating, we see our children, spouse, friends, coworkers, neighbors, and even strangers in a new light. When we leave our prayer closet, we find new resources that empower us to love more deeply, forgive more empathetically, endure more patiently, and live more wisely. Indeed, meditation helps us become better human beings.

God gave me a chance this morning to practice the gifts of meditation in very real and concrete ways. I was taught once again how to be a decent human being, even when things don’t go as planned. I was taught how God can use children to eradicate all remnants of selfishness through sacrificial love. I was able to be a little more like Jesus, who said, “Let the little children come unto me.” These are the gifts that come with the challenges of meditating in the presence of a three-year-old.

Hold on… I hear her again… “Come wipe my butt!” I have to go practice the fruits of meditation again.