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”
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.
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.
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.
I struggled through the fallen limbs and briars cluttering the mountain trail. Droplets trickled down my face from the sweat of my brow, the arduous journey almost over. The ridgetop was in view — a glorious transformation in sight. Just a little farther and the struggle would be worth it.
The height would offer a magnificent view of my beloved Blue Ridge Mountains.
Lord, the birdsong outside my window is glorious. The simple praise of my feathered friends brings me back to the center and reminds me that You are in the details of my life, big and small. Even the little irritants — the little foxes — can be used by You for my good and Your glory.
When I keep my eyes on You, the things of earth grow dim, they lose their power over me. When I keep my eyes on You, my heart is kept in peace and thankfulness escapes my lips.
The water flowed freely, cascading over river boulders, plummeting over the edge into the cove below. A spray of water filled the space with refreshment, and the sound of one thousand stampeding horses filled the air as the river surged to depths below and then...
Lord, I can sense Your Spirit stirring in me, I can hear Your delicate whisper calling me to come. You call me to rest in You, Lord and I want to. But it will be just a minute. I can’t rest yet … but I will. I promise.
I know I need to. I know I am thirsty, depleted … exhausted. I know I need to sit with You and drink from Your living water. That’s why You call me to rest …
I wander in my foggy thoughts, weary steps follow weary steps. The trail is brutal at times. Life has been very difficult for a few years now — I know many that have experienced the same. But in the midst of our struggles, God remains. His faithfulness has been a bulwark against the work of the enemy. His grace has sustained and His mercy has held us as hurting, frightened children in the arms of our Father.
How is it that our God remains steadfast and sure? What have we done to deserve love like this?
Lord, You said, “Seek My face,” and I said, “Your face I will seek.” You promised if I seek You with all of my heart, I would find You. And I did. And You did. And I’m so thankful. But lately, it seems I’m groping in the dark, desperately reaching for Your hand.
I know You’re there — I have no doubt. But the trials have been intense and the darkness has tried to consume me. And fear … I am constantly fighting to keep fear at bay because I know You don’t want me to be afraid.