Lord, You are mighty and You are good. You set the stars in place and yet You cradle me when I’m hurt. You are my Blessed Savior who lights my darkness and draws me to Yourself. Thank You.
You call us to walk in the light as You are in the light. What does that mean, Lord? I mean, really mean?
Show me, Lord.
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I struck the match and pressed its flame against the candle wick. Within moments, a globe of fire consumed the string and burned bright. I watched as the flame grew stronger, melting the aromatic candle.
The more melting occurred, the stronger the fragrance — the farther its reach as the aroma of Caramel Pecan permeated the room.
Closing my eyes, I leaned back and sat still, waiting on the Lord, for I knew He wanted to show me something.
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O God, You are my God. You are my Refuge, my Strong-Tower. You are the One on whom I depend because You are faithful and trustworthy. My heart feels battered, my spirit worn, but You are my strength — the One on whom I lean for support.
You tell us to come to You when we are weary and heavy-laden. That’s how I feel Lord — heavy-laden, carrying burdens that are not mine to carry.
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Chatter is in a constant stream from radios and newscasters. Emergency-management press conferences continually come across the airwaves. Universities are sending students home. Schools are closing. Folks evacuating…
All because of a hurricane named Florence — a storm of biblical proportions.
It’s scary!
Florence spins like a monstrous chainsaw cutting a path through the Atlantic ocean dead-aimed at the coast of the Carolinas. She has no respect for life. No respect for property. And just like Harvey that hit Texas last year, her plans are to stall once she comes onshore, creating catastrophic flooding from the shore to our mountains.
It looks bad, folks.
But wait a minute … I’m a child of God.
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Lord, I know there is a river flowing straight from Your heart into mine — replenishing, renewing, sustaining. Thank You.
You, Yourself, are the Living Water.
Your Holy Spirit flows over and through and around the broken, difficult places in my heart bringing healing and refreshment for a weary soul.
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Her face, drawn and dim, spoke of the suffering that wracked her body. Shoulders bent over in defeat. Eyes, familiar with the sparkle of life, glazed over — the light snuffed out. Tears trickled down cheeks that once knew the rosy blush of powder and rouge, now pale from pain.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she said. “Please don’t pray for me. There is no point. God doesn’t care. If He cared He would have taken this suffering away by now. He would have stopped me from having the surgery.”
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Lord, Your goodness and grace sustain me. Your faithfulness undergirds me and fills me with the courage to face each day — peace to rise above what this world throws my way.
Teach me to really cast my cares on You because they are too great for me to carry.
Through Your Word, remind me who You are: my Way-Maker, Miracle-Worker, my Provider, and Protector. You are my Peace, my Strong-Tower, my Refuge, and Redeemer. You are my God and You are for me, not against me.
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