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”
With joy,
Nan
Encountering God Where a Bench Awaited Me
I grabbed my jacket and took off for a much needed walk. The periwinkle sky of November illuminated the remaining red and yellow leaves of fall. Sunshine bathed me in warmth as I labored up the hill to the white clapboard church where a bench awaited me.
My mind searched for reassurance and fought the unsettled spirit whispering in my ear. I reached the blessed bench. Sitting down, I rested my elbows on my knees, cupping my face in my hands. A frustrated tear trickled down my cheek as I allowed the Lord to search my anxious thoughts.
Jesus, You’re My Hope. Fix My Eyes On You
Lord, You have carried me safe thus far. Through the wind, through the rain, through the fire, and through the turbulent waters, You have been with me. Jesus, You’re my hope. Fix my eyes on You.
Thank You for being my sure place. Thank You for being the One on whom I can depend. When life is hard, I know I am not alone.
An Explosion of Light … In More Ways Than One
Ominous, black-stained clouds crept over the mountain ridge. Trees bowed to the ground under the influence of fierce winds as raindrops like bullets shot from the sky. Long, slender fingers of electricity lit up the darkened heavens. One touched the hill across the street with an explosion of intense light. I screamed and quickly ran from the window as my home shuttered against the thunderous boom.
But just as quickly as the midday became midnight, and the gentle breeze became fierce winds, the storm moved on.
Your Mercy is New Every Morning. Open My Eyes to See
Lord, as sure as the sunrise is Your faithfulness to me. Open the eyes of my heart to see and remember that I am Your child. Your mercy is new every morning — Your love will never fail me.
Strengthen me to recognize Your hand in everything that concerns me. Remind me to look for You, for when I seek You with all of my heart, I will find You.
Seeking Peace Among Patches of Glory and Grace
I tucked my feet beneath me on the couch and spread the warm fleece of a blanket over my legs. Sipping coffee, seeking peace, I stared out over the browning landscape as winter cold approached. Only random patches of autumn’s glory remained. Hold-outs. Stubborn like me, and not ready to let go, but knowing God’s grace all the same.
I was struck by how the trees with branches bare stretched, almost yearning toward the October sky, reaching toward the heavenly places.
Hold Me Fast, Lord … I Think I’m Slipping
Lord, take my hand and lead me through these difficult places. Hold me fast. Don’t let go — some days it feels like I’m slipping.
In my spirit, I know I’m not. You will never let me stumble or fall. My choices could cause that, but not You. You love me with an everlasting love that will never fail me.
Anticipating God’s Sustenance, Gathering His Grace
Down below the old apple tree, there’s a meadow where goldenrods grow freely and the mountain stream sings its soothing melody. Each day, just before dusk, we put out deer corn. The deer have come to expect it and often come early, anticipating their sustenance before we’ve cast it across the slender grass.
We delight in providing for them.
We delight in their trust.
But they must journey from the forest wilderness to receive the blessing.
I Trust You, Lord. Well … Most of the Time
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.
The Authority of the Wind, the Breath of the Creator
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.