Lord, You promise me strength for each day of my life. When I am weak, You promise to be strong. I hold fast to this gift of Yours — I believe it and I rely on it. Some days I am just plain worn out, but then I remember Your promise and it causes me to look up and I smile because of Your grace.
Because of You, the weak say, “I am strong,” the poor say, “I am rich.”
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Picking up my coffee cup, I turned my head to look out the window toward the lower end of our property. There’s an old chestnut tree there, haggard from decades of mountain weather, barely standing, its branches stark against a winter sky. Even though I’m thankful for God’s love, I could relate to those stark branches reaching toward heaven.
From a distance, I could see bright pops of crimson on the bare branches.
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Lord, You are the joy of my heart, my refuge, and my strength. Oh, how I need You, Lord. As the deer pants for the water, so I thirst for You, the Living God, in a dry and thirsty land where there is no water.
Only You can satisfy the longing soul. You created a God-shaped space in the heart of Your people that only You can fill. Fill me to overflowing, Lord!
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The cold wind swirled around me, sudden gusts pushing me along the gravel road. Dry meadow grass swayed and bowed at the wind’s command. Dappled light flickered beneath the forest’s canopy up ahead.
I had been walking a while, thinking perhaps too much, questioning the ways of the Lord — not with accusations, but with a heartfelt desire to understand.
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Lord, how amazing to know I am Your child — You call me daughter. You search my heart and know all my anxious thoughts. You know ME and You love me still.
Bless You, Lord. I rejoice in the knowledge of Your love.
You are my shield, my defender, the glory, and the lifter up of my head. You surround me with songs of deliverance and rescue me from my enemies. Their names are fear, anxiety, and overwhelm …
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Six hundred thousand men, plus women and children tramped across the desert sands in the dead of night. Their sojourn, their captivity, in Egypt had ended after 430 years. Pharaoh sent them out in haste following the 10th plague: Death of the Firstborn. Transition came at them fast.
A familiar story, right?
But have you ever noticed verse forty-one in this passage of Scripture found in Exodus twelve? “God kept watch all night, watching over the Israelites as He brought them out of Egypt.”
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Lord, I have found that on the mountaintops, You are there. And in the valleys low, You are there — You are steadfast in all Your ways. But still … life is hard, Lord. Please hold my hand.
I love when I call out to You in my distress, You hear me — You incline Your ear, leaning into the sound of my weary-soaked voice. I appreciate how miraculous that is, and how tender You are.
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After a brutally cold night howling with harsh winds, the morning woke with peace. Snowflakes peppered down, covering the barren earth of winter with a soft blanket of white. Tucking my legs beneath me, I nestled into the corner of the couch, gripped a warm cup of coffee, and watched out the window as the glory of morning broke through the darkness.
A cardinal clothed in scarlet perched on the edge of our bird feeder. As he feasted on sunflower seeds, large snowflakes fell. Soft. Gentle. Cascading all about him.
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Lord, You are sovereign — You have taught me this beautiful truth through severe circumstances. I can rest in this knowledge. I can rest, knowing there is a time for every purpose under heaven.
Nothing is by happenstance.
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The brook babbled with a soulful melody in the shade of an old chestnut tree. Cascading across mountain stones, notes of endurance sang out a song of peace. The water seemed alive with perseverance and strength — tenacity — as it carried a timeless breath of life across the mountain hollar.
I thought of the Lord as I sat on the carpet of moss along the brook’s edge.
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Lord, great is Your faithfulness. Your mercies are new every morning — available, given freely with abundance. This I know. This I believe. Help me hold fast to this promise so that I might press on with patient endurance.
The fires of trial have been fierce lately. Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but You promise to deliver us out of them all.
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Lord, how majestic is Your Name in all the earth! You are sovereign, Maker of heaven and earth. You are bathed in pure light, Your glory fills heaven and earth. What love is this, Lord, that You should call me Your child?
I am so undeserving, so insignificant in the whole scheme of things, and yet You call me Your daughter — daughter of the King.
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Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference
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