Father, I hold fast to the knowledge that You are not a god of confusion, but a God of peace. You are my sure place in an ever-changing world … my hiding place. When life is chaotic, You are my peace.
How can I thank You, Lord? Your faithfulness reaches to the clouds. You hover above the chaos and bring order.
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My geranium sat neglected. Difficult life circumstances had taken priority and now the once lush and bountiful geranium looked … sad. Yellowed leaves edged in crumbly brown. Flowers, once plentiful, now barely raised their heads alone. Dry and thirsty was she.
The soil had become crusty. Hard. Void of life-sustaining nutrients.
Much like a child of God finding herself in a desert wilderness at the base of the mountain dry and thirsty, knowing she should be soaring from its peak.
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Father, I will sing of Your mercies forever, with my mouth will I make Your faithfulness known, for You are my help, Lord. I will release my praise, especially in the difficult place, until You break forth like the dawn in me.
I’m tired, Lord. Weary. The battles have been fierce and I’ve needed/wanted to shelter in place beneath Your wing. It’s easy there. I can rest there.
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I had to step out and away for at least a moment. Like the breath of heaven, fresh air would do my restless spirit good. A bit of sunshine might dry my tears.
As I walked past the meadow and beneath the canopy of pine, a melody played over and over in my spirit. I couldn’t recall any words to match the music, but the melody I recognized. Wiping my tears I said, Lord, what is this song? Why have you brought it to my attention?
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Father, what a mighty God You are, full of power and wonder, beautiful in holiness. You are the Lion of Judah, my King. You are my protector and my shield.
Will You roar from on high and scatter my enemy? O Lion of Judah, the evil one has been relentless and vicious in his attacks. But I know who I am. I am Yours and You are mine and no evil can come near my tent. I am secure beneath the shadow of Your wing.
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As I rounded the curve at the top of the hill, I looked toward the heavens. The rolling clouds reminded me of a favorite Scripture: Nahum 1:3, “He displays His power in the whirlwind and the storm. The billowing clouds are the dust beneath His feet.”
Our dirt road runs alongside a glorious pasture lush from recent rains. Clouds bubbled, some ashen in color. In the distance, the mountain range rippled in shades of navy and slate blue.
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Father, in quiet confidence I find my strength. Draw me near, Lord. Hold me fast and I will rest in You for You are my salvation and my song.
I am secure in Your love and when I consider it, my heart smiles and my restless thoughts stop their meandering into the shadows. It’s a beautiful thing … Your grace.
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