I've been saying for a couple of years now that people need to

When Joyce Meyer declared, “I’ve been saying for a couple of years now that people need to let God out of the Sunday morning box, that He doesn’t want to just be with you for an hour or two on Sunday morning and then put back in His box to sit there until you have an emergency, but He wants to invade your Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday,” she was calling forth a truth as ancient as faith itself: that the divine is not confined to temples or schedules, but is meant to permeate every breath of life. Her words awaken us to the danger of compartmentalizing God, treating Him as a guest rather than the living presence who longs to dwell in every corner of our existence.

The origin of this quote rests in Meyer’s long ministry of teaching practical faith. Speaking to people who often saw worship as a ritual confined to church walls, she sought to remind them that God was not a Sunday appointment but a daily companion. For too long, many had fallen into the habit of visiting God as one visits a physician—seeking Him only when something is wrong. Meyer’s imagery of a “Sunday morning box” unmasks the error of this thinking, revealing that true faith is not seasonal nor weekly, but constant, woven into the ordinary rhythm of work, family, and daily struggle.

History gives us many examples of this lesson. The Israelites in the wilderness were commanded to gather manna every day, not only once a week, so they might learn that God’s presence was continual, sustaining them with daily bread. The early Christians, too, were known not simply for their gatherings on the Lord’s Day, but for their steadfast devotion in homes, marketplaces, and prisons. In each case, it was the daily walking with God that gave them strength, not a fleeting hour of ritual.

Meyer’s words also strike at the heart of modern distraction. Many today live divided lives: spiritual for one moment, secular for the rest. But the Creator of heaven and earth cannot be confined. To allow Him to “invade” every day is to see even the smallest tasks—washing dishes, driving to work, caring for children—as sacred. In this way, life itself becomes worship, and holiness ceases to be a distant concept and becomes a living reality.

There is also in her words a summons to intimacy. God does not desire to be called upon only in crisis, like a servant summoned from a box. He desires fellowship, friendship, and partnership in the daily labor of our lives. This is a God who walks in gardens in the cool of the day, who leads shepherds by still waters, who strengthens laborers at their tasks. To confine Him to Sunday alone is to rob ourselves of His companionship through the storms and struggles of the other six days.

The lesson for us is clear: invite God into every moment. Do not wait for emergencies to cry out; do not wait for Sunday to lift your eyes. Begin each day by acknowledging Him, carry His presence into your labor, and close each night in gratitude. In this way, your whole life becomes a temple, and every hour a sanctuary.

So let Joyce Meyer’s words echo like a commandment of old: “Let God out of the Sunday morning box.” Do not keep Him chained by ritual or routine, but let Him walk with you on Monday, guide you on Tuesday, strengthen you on Wednesday, inspire you on Thursday, bless you on Friday, refresh you on Saturday, and be your delight on Sunday. For the divine presence is not part-time but eternal, and the heart that welcomes Him daily will never walk alone.