Day 164

1 Kings 7–8 | 2 Corinthians 2

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It’s easy to measure the day by what you checked off.

The boxes you marked. The tasks you tackled.

The output you created.

I’m the kind of guy who does something not on the list then adds it to the list—just so I can cross it off.

And today—three days after surgery—my list doesn’t look like it used to.

No slide decks to edit. No meetings to run.

Just one thing: fight the restiffening.

My middle finger—stiff as wrought iron just a few days ago—can now be forced to bend.

Not on its own.

But with the help of my left hand, the right one yields.

So the list today looks like:

How many reps I managed.

How many minutes I kept it elevated.

How long I held the mini massager to prevent scar tissue from reattaching to the tendons.

It’s a race against regression. A strange little war of angles and aching.

And it feels like progress.

But then I read 1 Kings 8.

Solomon finishes the temple.

Years of planning. Tons of gold. Imported cedar.

Every cubit carved. Every detail perfect.

And then—God’s glory descends.

“When the priests came out of the Holy Place, a cloud filled the house of the Lord… so that the priests could not stand to minister… for the glory of the Lord filled the house of the Lord.” (1 Kings 8:10–11)

No warning. No build-up.

Just a weight of presence that silenced everything.

They didn’t keep going.

They couldn’t.

God was there.

When Presence Interrupts Productivity

That moment changed how I saw today.

Because as much as I want motion in that finger, I need movement in my soul even more.

The list might track progress—but His presence is what makes it holy.

And Solomon knew it.

He wasn’t just dedicating a structure.

He was declaring a reality:

“I have indeed built you an exalted house, a place for you to dwell forever.” (v. 13)

Not just a monument.

But a meeting place.

A dwelling.

The point wasn’t the achievement.

It was the awe.

The Fragrance of Glory

Paul picks up the same theme in 2 Corinthians 2:

“Thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of Him everywhere.” (v. 14)

That glory from the temple?

It now fills us.

And spreads through us.

Which begs the question:

Is there any evidence of it today?

Can anyone smell it on me?

Not the scent of performance.

Not the air of composure.

But the unmistakable aroma of a life God inhabits.

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So today, I’m asking a different question.

Not “Did I do enough?”

But “Did I pause long enough to notice Him?”

Did His presence interrupt my productivity?

Did my awe of Him slow me down?

Because when His glory fills the room—

You don’t keep pushing.

You just fall on your face.

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Lord, I don’t want a day full of tasks with no trace of You in it. Fill this temple—my body, my heart, my home—with Your glory. Let Your presence be heavier than my pressure to perform. Interrupt my race against restiffening and turn it into worship. And let those around me sense something different today. Not because I said something profound. But because You are here with me. Amen.