My first job was in the insurance industry. I worked in the Worker’s Compensation department, investigating claims for people who were injured on the job. I enjoyed my work. I felt like I was providing a good service to people who found themselves in difficult situations.
My commute to work was about fifty minutes each way. I enjoyed being out on the highways with all the other workerbees. I especially enjoyed the ride home, because it allowed me the time I needed to transition from work to home.
I used that time to hash out any problems I had, go over claims that were still unsettled and work out solutions. By the time I arrived at my front door I was ready to put the work day behind me and relax into the evening.
When I left my job to raise my kids, I learned quickly that there is no such thing as transition time. Days and nights blended together as one 24-hour blur of feedings, diaper changes, play-times. There was no such thing as bedtime. It was more like grab a few hours of shuteye whenever possible.
As the kids got older, my days continued to be one endless cycle. And even now, with college-age kids, their friends come and go at all hours, they make snacks for themselves (and when I say snacks, I’m not talking about cookies and milk, I mean pasta, sandwiches, meatball grinders) at 2 AM. My house is a constant state of activity. I live in a 7-11.
This kind of lifestyle goes against our nature. When God created the Earth, right off the bat he separated the light from the darkness. Calling the light day, and the dark evening. They are two separate and distinct times in that 24 hour period and should be treated as such. Hence, the need for transition time, or cocktail hour. But having sworn off that for a year, my new transition time is now my quiet time or as I like to call it, my commute. And I started last night.
Much like during my working days, I was able to clear my mind of the issues of the day, to listen for God’s voice and relax into the evening. Twenty minutes of piece and quiet to recharge was all I needed. And while I didn’t actually hear from God, I am sure that He was aware of my effort and saw that it was good.