There’s something deeply revealing about how we allocate our time and resources. As I’ve sat with chapters 5 through 7 from 1 Kings, I’ve been moved by a sobering numerical contrast I noticed—seven years to build God’s temple, thirteen years for Solomon’s personal palace. This detail isn’t merely architectural history; it’s a mirror held up to our own lives.
1 Kings 6:38—“So it was that Solomon was seven years in building it” (referring to the temple).
1 Kings 7:1—”But Solomon was building his own house thirteen years, and he finished all his house” (referring to the palace.)
One thing that strikes me about 1 Kings 5-7 is how subtly Solomon’s focus drifted. Every cedar beam, every carved cherubim, every detail mattered; his devotion was genuine—the temple specifications were followed meticulously, the materials were the finest available, the craftsmanship exquisite. Yet the temple received seven years, the palace thirteen, revealing a gradual drift in what captivated his heart. Personal ambition began to outpace spiritual dedication, a quiet shift unnoticed at first.
I’ve experienced this same pattern in my spiritual journey. My days aren’t divided between constructing temples and palaces, but between spiritual nourishment and worldly distractions. What begins as a quick scripture reading can easily dissolve into hours of scrolling on X and a moment of intended sermon study turns into a YouTube video rabbit hole. My “temple time” shrinks while my “palace time” expands, and I’ve found that it’s not a dramatic fall but a subtle drift—one that’s easy to overlook. As Jesus said:
Matthew 6:21—”For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
My screen time has become a revealing metric of where my treasure—and thus my heart—truly lies.
That subtle drift became undeniable when I checked my screen time last month. What began as a simple curiosity became a spiritual wake-up call when I saw the numbers: 60 minutes in my Scripture memorization and Bible apps versus 2+ hours on YouTube, Facebook, and other apps. My temple-to-palace ratio was severely imbalanced.
But in that imbalance, I find unexpected openings. The beauty of my situation – driving for Uber as a secondary income – is that it creates unique pockets of time. These moments between rides could become either “temple-building time” or “palace-building time.” Not in the literal sense, of course, but in how they either connect me to my deeper purpose or simply pass in distraction.
Practical Temple-Building in Digital Age
What might intentional “temple-building” look like in the spaces between responsibilities?
What if I could more intentionally create playlists—not just for entertainment, but to nourish my soul during those in-between moments?
Or take those moments of waiting—whether in traffic, at a store, or between tasks—and use them to immerse myself more consistently in God’s word?
A brief Bible passage during a lull could anchor me in His presence. A quick prayer—driving the kids or pausing mid-task—could refocus my heart with a single word.
How often do I rush through my day without taking a second to pause and notice the gifts around me? The gratitude is there, but even just one more 30 seconds to thank God—for His presence, loved ones, or quiet—could shift me.
Scriptural Reflection: The Quiet Work of Temple-Building
1 Kings 6:7—“When the house was built, it was with stone prepared at the quarry, so that neither hammer nor axe nor any tool of iron was heard in the house while it was being built.”
There was a quiet, deliberate nature to the work, a reflection of intentionality that invites me to consider how I build my spiritual “temple.” The spiritual work of transformation often isn’t loud or dramatic—it happens in the quiet, purposeful moments, like those between rides or in small pauses throughout the day.
1 Kings 6:12-13—”If you follow my decrees, carry out my regulations, and keep all my commands and obey them, I will fulfill through you the promise I gave to David your father. And I will live among the Israelites and will not abandon my people Israel.”
This reminds me that when we commit to spiritual disciplines, God’s presence fills those moments and continues to build our temple from the inside out. It’s not always the grand gestures that build a life of faith but the small, faithful actions over time.
Questions for My Journey
As I reflect on these chapters through the lens of my specific situation, I’m holding these questions:
- What if those moments before opening a streaming app became invitations to brief spiritual connection?
- How might I create “temple spaces” within my driving routine?
- What would a healthy “seven-to-thirteen ratio” look like in my daily rhythms?
Final Thought:
I must confess that I’ve often dismissed my own digital distractions as “harmless downtime.” Yet Solomon’s story reminds me that patterns of attention eventually shape the temple of our hearts. Every time I find myself scrolling, every podcast episode I watch, every playlist I listen to contributes to who I’m becoming.
In this season, I’m learning that spiritual formation isn’t just about grand commitments but about reclaiming those small moments that so easily slip away. The temple was built, not in dramatic gestures, but in the small, faithful choices made each day.
How About You?
Where might God be inviting you to shift your attention today?
In the spaces between life’s busyness, what kind of ‘temple building’ might be possible for you?
What small, intentional choices might you make today?
Let me know what you think.