It’s been far too long….and words want to pour out faster than my tears. I have given myself space these past months. I’ve realized how kind I seem to be to everyone but me. New job, new house, new church, new world…and yet I piled deadlines onto my now unfamiliar life. Finish my book, write two blogs a week, write for Family Fire…host a small group, take part in another, volunteer to help at outreaches…and on and on the list goes.
Stop! Slow down! Listen better. Run at the mouth less. I hear painful stories everyday. It’s part of my job. I feel panic gripping my throat at the threat of viruses, and crazy imagined horrors. How can I be so full of fear when I spend so much time seeking You?
My phone whispers another frightening fact and all the faith I diligently watered and grew in my morning discussion with Him leaks out the bottom of my flower pot, draining all the life out and leaving me dry to the bone. I scrub my hands, my desk, my bathroom sink trying to rub out fear and germs and bad reports.
It’s then I remember. Last year You gave me a poem, a Promise. A Psalm 91 Promise in a frightening, scary world before terror threats and daughter traveling on foreign planes. You gave me exactly what I needed before I even knew that I needed it.
This year you gave me a word, dwell. To live in You, abide in You, run to You and hide in You. I have a Secret Place far from harm, far from my own demands, far from the heartbreak of painful stories. I am safe in You.
