One Thousand, Four Hundred and Forty

This week, I barely practiced S.O.S. (My 7-minute morning devotional).

Most mornings begin with a snoozed alarm or a quick scroll through my phone. What starts as a glance turns into checking emails, reading messages, or diving into something that could’ve waited. Then the routine kicks in: coffee, packed lunch, music on, shower, dress, and out the door.

Between all that, my teenager and I exchange our usual repartee, a welcome distraction, but not the reason I’ve skipped my 7-minute S.O.S. I wake at 6:00 or 6:10, and leave for work around 8:20–8:30. That’s a solid 2 hours and 20 to 30 minutes between waking up and heading out the door it’s pretty offensive that I can’t meet with God for 7 of them.

Last week, I listened to one of the daily devotionals by UCB. 1,440 minutes in a day. That phrase stuck. It’s become a kind of liturgical refrain, exposing the tension between desire and habit, intention and inertia. As I write this, I’m annoyed with myself. I want to spend time with God. I want to know Him. So why can’t I just get it together?

It’s not just the mornings. At night, I choose an episode of something to fall asleep to. Time that could be spent in quiet with God. I wonder what those 7 minutes have felt like. I remember silence, peace, conviction but I can’t remember the actual feeling.

While pondering this post, something simple came to mind: Move the phone. It currently lives on my window sill, within easy reach. Perhaps I’ll try relocating it over the next few days and see what shifts. The phone has become a gatekeeper of sorts, guarding the threshold between distraction and devotion.

I think I’ll also try setting a goal to make the time intentional. Not just to “fit God in,” but to honour Him with the first fruits of my day. And if i fail, I’ll remember grace is not measured in minutes.