quiet time, real strength
"Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed." — Mark 1:35
This episode is a little different than the others, and honestly, that's intentional.
Most of the time on Kingdom Chaos, I share stories from my life and Amy's and my journey together. But this week felt different. Over the course of just a few days, I found myself talking with several families who were walking through incredibly difficult seasons. Some were facing serious illnesses. Others were sitting beside loved ones in hospitals, wondering what tomorrow would bring. As I listened to their stories, I couldn't shake one thought: What prepares us for moments like these?
When life takes an unexpected turn, we don't suddenly build a relationship with God. We lean on the relationship we've already been building.
That's why I want to talk about quiet time.
When I say "quiet time," I'm not talking about saying a quick prayer while you're driving to work or thanking God while you're mowing the lawn. Those prayers matter, and I believe we should stay connected with God throughout the day. But quiet time is something different. Quiet time is intentional. It's distraction-free. It's setting aside time where your phone is put away, the television is off, the notifications stop, and you're simply present with God.
I know that isn't easy in today's world.
Our lives are constantly demanding our attention. Work needs us. Family needs us. Our phones never stop buzzing. Even when we have a few quiet moments, we're tempted to fill them by scrolling social media or checking email. We tell ourselves we'll spend time with God later, but later often becomes tomorrow, and tomorrow becomes next week.
The truth is, our relationship with God deserves more than whatever time happens to be left over.
One question I wrestled with early in my faith was this: How could Jesus be fully human and never sin? I understood that He was fully God, but I couldn't wrap my mind around how He experienced temptation, exhaustion, disappointment, and sorrow without falling into sin the way I so often did.
The more I studied the Gospels, the more I noticed something remarkable. Before Jesus performed miracles, before He made major decisions, before He endured suffering, and even after incredibly busy days of ministry, He consistently withdrew to spend time alone with His Father. That wasn't an occasional habit. It was His lifestyle. It was the source of His strength.
Mark 1:35 tells us, "Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed." Luke tells us that Jesus often withdrew to lonely places to pray. Before choosing His twelve disciples, He spent the entire night in prayer. In the Garden of Gethsemane, when His soul was overwhelmed with sorrow, His response wasn't to run from the Father—it was to run to Him.
That pattern challenged me.
If Jesus, the Son of God, prioritized uninterrupted time with His Father, how much more do I need it?
One experience completely changed the way I viewed my own relationship with God. Years ago, I decided I wanted to memorize the book of James. I chose James because it's practical, straightforward, and only five chapters long. What I didn't expect was how much that decision would affect my daily walk with Christ.
As I worked on memorizing Scripture, something happened. God's Word wasn't confined to my morning devotional anymore. It stayed with me throughout the day. While I was driving, washing dishes, mowing the lawn, or waiting in line somewhere, I was repeating Scripture in my mind. I wasn't just memorizing verses—I was meditating on them. My thoughts became saturated with God's Word, and almost without realizing it, I found myself thinking less about the distractions around me and more about the God who had given me those words.
That's when I began to understand what Jesus modeled.
His relationship with the Father wasn't limited to one quiet moment every morning. Quiet time fueled continual connection. Those moments alone with God carried Him through everything else the day would bring.
That's what quiet time is supposed to do for us.
It's not another item to check off a spiritual to-do list. It's where we reconnect with the One who gives us strength for everything else.
People often ask me what my own quiet time looks like. My routine isn't complicated, but it is intentional. I usually wake up, eat breakfast, work out, and then settle into my time with God. I've learned that if I try to read Scripture the moment I wake up, my mind isn't fully engaged. I need a little time to wake up first. Once I sit down with my Bible, I begin by asking God to prepare my heart and reveal something through His Word. I don't usually read large sections of Scripture during my quiet time. Instead, I focus on a smaller passage so I can meditate on it throughout the day instead of rushing through several chapters and forgetting what I read. After reading, I spend time praying for my family, my church, my pastors, those who don't yet know Christ, and whatever God has placed on my heart that morning.
One of the most important parts of my quiet time comes at the end.
I stop talking.
For several minutes, I simply sit quietly before God.
Too often our prayers become one-sided conversations where we bring Him our requests, our worries, and our plans before rushing off to the next thing. But relationships don't grow through one-way conversations. They grow through listening. I've discovered that some of the most meaningful moments with God happen in the silence, when I stop filling every second with my own words and simply allow Him to speak to my heart.
I've also learned that we weren't created to pursue Christ alone. One of the greatest gifts God has given me is accountability. Every week I meet with my pastor, and he asks me questions that go far beyond, "How are you doing?" He asks about my quiet time. He asks what God has been teaching me through Scripture. He asks about my marriage, my emotional health, my purity, my leadership, and my relationship with Christ. Those conversations create space for honesty, growth, and healing because I know I'm talking with someone who loves me enough to tell me the truth.
Every believer needs people like that.
Whether it's a pastor, mentor, small group leader, or trusted friend, we all need someone who will encourage us to keep growing and lovingly challenge us when we begin to drift. Healing rarely happens in isolation.
The older I get, the more convinced I become that quiet time isn't about checking a religious box. It's about building a relationship that sustains us when life becomes difficult. The families I've walked alongside recently reminded me of that truth. When tragedy comes—and eventually it comes for all of us—we don't suddenly become spiritually strong overnight. We draw strength from the time we've already spent with our Heavenly Father.
Quiet time isn't preparation for a perfect life.
It's preparation for a faithful one.
If spending intentional time with God isn't part of your daily rhythm yet, don't start by feeling guilty. Start by being intentional. Set aside ten minutes. Put your phone away. Open your Bible. Pray honestly. Sit quietly. Listen. Tomorrow, do it again. Then the next day.
Over time, you'll discover what Jesus already knew.
Real strength isn't found in doing more.
It's found in staying close to the Father.
And when the unexpected turns of life come—and they will—you'll discover that the quiet moments you spent with God became the foundation that carried you through the storm.
