I used to struggle with spending time alone with God each day — no matter how hard I tried. After forcing myself to conform to traditional methods, I discovered that I can experience quiet solitude with Him in a variety of ways.
When my husband, and pastor, walked out of my life, a vortex of pain threatened to suck me away. He left me with three children, no skills, and no income. Sleepless nights, fearful days, and a wooden ceiling almost brought me to the brink of a breakdown.
Something had to be done.
One night at bedtime, I envisioned a basket on my nightstand. As I climbed into bed, I placed all my worries into the imaginary container. Within myself, I began to have a conversation with God:
"Lord, You know I don't understand how I am going to make it through tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. I'm terrified. But I believe that You love me, and want the best for me. I can't do anything about my anxieties tonight, so I'm giving them to You."
Almost instantly, my thoughts began to fly. "How will I pay the bills? I need a job! The groceries are running out!" But each night, I handed my anxiety over to God. He was there — alone with me — removing my basket filled with worry and pain.
In that rough, restless place, I discovered that God is in each and every moment, if we look for Him. But looking for Him requires that we take control of our mind. My focus had to shift from the concerns of my life to seeing and trusting God. I now see His love and grace through the eyes of my children — a glass of quenching water — a beautiful sunset — and every precious moment.
I have found my daily quiet time by turning off the noise of the world. I go inward — into a silent place — where it's just me and God. In that quiet place, I place my worries into a basket and hand them to Him. In that private and tranquil place, He tells me not to worry. His reassuring voice encourages me to "cast my anxiety upon Him because He cares for me" (1 Peter 5:7).
I have learned to take advantage of every moment. Instead of tapping my fingers impatiently at a red light, I can take that moment to connect with God. When I'm standing in the line at the cash register (instead of wondering why the person in front is taking so long), I can feel God's presence right there beside me. My "quiet time" with God has become whatever and wherever I want it to be. 
