Lord, You are the mighty God, Maker of heaven and earth, and yet You know every intricate detail of my life — You know and care about all that concerns me. I trust You, Lord … most of the time.
That is never a good idea.
I confess that sometimes I struggle with trusting, probably because I place my focus on my circumstances and not on You.
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I stood beneath the pine grove at the crest of the hill. Autumn leaves shimmied in the breeze. Floating. Twirling. Submitting to the authority of the wind, the breath of their Creator. Storm clouds pressed eastward leaving an October indigo sky in its wake.
I closed my eyes.
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Lord, what would I do without You? On my darkest days You are the light in my darkness, the song in my night. You give me peace when there is none to be found.
Sometimes the world tries to drown You out — sometimes I let it. In the quiet of the night, my thoughts grow restless and try to consume me. Help me hear the melody of Your song in the night.
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There is something so glorious — so unfathomable — about the Lord our God: He draws near to us in our difficult place. Truly. His tender watch-care and His intimate, personal engagement with His struggling child are evident for those who will open the eyes of their hearts to see.
His child consumed with fear.
His child overwhelmed by hopelessness.
His child cast away through betrayal and rejection.
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Lord, You are Maker of heaven and earth, the All-Sufficient God. Your sufficiency meets my insufficiency and I am made whole. I am equipped. I have all I need to serve You well. Teach me to number my days, to recognize that time is running short — people need You, Lord.
I don’t want to be selfish. I don’t want to hide my light beneath a barrel and put my gifts in a pretty box where they gather dust. You have prepared me for such a time as this.
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My gaze landed on the mountaintop in the distance. Blue-purple ribbons of rolling hills surrounded the giant dome. I was in the battle of faith and despair, trying to let faith win out. Why are you troubled and weary, Nan? I asked myself. Why so downcast? Put your hope in God, Maker of heaven and earth.
I often lecture myself. I suppose King David did the same.
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Lord, You are my praise, my glory — You are my God. All that I am I give to You for You are the glory and the lifter of my head. I keep my hand to the plow, Lord, but the dirt is so hard. Fallow. Baked with stubbornness.
I’m sorry I’m so stubborn sometimes. Please forgive me. I delight in doing the work You have called me to do, but on the hard days it takes great effort to keep my hand to the plow.
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