Take hope in the knowledge that you are cherished by the One who made you—you are sheltered in the shadow of His wing, close to His heart. It is my prayer that as we get to know one another you, too, will see beyond the veil and will learn to say, “Even so, I walk in the Presence of the Lord”
Holy God. Holy Man.
Wholly God. Wholly Man.
The dust swirled about their feet and spiraled upward as the unseen tempest began to roar. It was a tempest of the heart — a gut-wrenching revelation that would change the world. But … they mocked and cackled and cast their self-righteous stones upon the One who came to open their eyes to see and know God.
Lord, I’m so thankful for Your sovereignty. To know You have full authority over all the earth comforts me. God, You hold the world in Your hands! What a glorious thought.
You must be so grieved by the depravity of mankind who seeks self-gratification at all costs.
Many gods are being raised up before You — there are many idols governing the hearts of mankind creating havoc fear, division, and destruction of all things good.
I tucked my legs beneath me in the corner of the sofa. Coffee steam rose from my favorite cup. I clutched my Bible to my chest and rested my head against the sofa’s back. My eyes closed while I tried to settle my spirit, but peace seemed like a distant desire with no relief in sight. I felt very troubled. Peace evaded me.
One of my favorite psalms began to flow from my heart and escape my lips:
Hear my cry, O God; Attend to my prayer …
Lord, You promise to draw near to the brokenhearted and those crushed in spirit. By faith, I know this to be true. But lately, I can’t see You because of my tears. Open my eyes Lord.
You are my faithful God, merciful and kind. I have no reason to doubt Your promises, but my circumstances are consuming me. My attention is focused there, like I’m in a headlock of the enemy and I can’t lift my head to behold Your glory.
I held the warmth of my coffee cup to my chin, allowing the steam to rise and help remove the chill of this frosty spring morning. Sitting quietly, gazing out the window at the wonder of God’s creation, I sensed God’s presence drawing near. We didn’t speak. There was no need. God knows my heart before I utter a word.
David’s dementia is increasing, his ability to reason escaping his gentle spirit. It’s been a hard few days … and I needed to be held in my Savior’s love.
Lord, how easily I belt out, On Christ the Solid Rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand … I have done my best over all these years to live this Truth out loud. I’m built on the Rock, for sure, but goodness gracious, I’ve been taking a beating lately.
As have many of Your children.
Our porch thermometer registered a brisk twenty-six degrees this morning — this first day of spring. The old apple tree is beginning to form tiny buds on its branches, my rose bushes are awakening from their slumber … spring is here, and yet winter lingers with its frosty mornings and oyster gray skies.
As I observed the contrast of two seasons — their merging, their conflict — I thought about my spirit. And yours.
Lord, I love the power of Your might, and I love the tenderness of Your watch-care over Your children. Your love guards us fiercely. Rise up, O God, and scatter my enemies. They are many and are making life hard.
My enemies aren’t clothed in flesh and blood. They are principalities of darkness that won’t leave me alone. They know just how to trigger fear and upsettedness in me. They know how to make me question everything, how to stir discontentment in my heart.
Against the backdrop of a dusty, dry desert, a grass-covered pasture graces the outskirts of Bethlehem. It’s known as Shepherd’s Field. Shepherds bring their flocks there to graze and lie down on the lush, tender grass — many shepherds and many flocks at the same time. It’s not hard for an observer to realize the strong heart connection each shepherd has with his sheep amid the noise.
As the sun begins to inch toward the horizon at the closing of the day, each shepherd calls to his sheep. To the observer, there is a cacophony of voices traveling across the hillside. But to the sheep, they hear one voice …