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
When Peace Evaded Me, Where Was My God?
I tucked my legs beneath me in the corner of the sofa. Coffee steam rose from my favorite cup. I clutched my Bible to my chest and rested my head against the sofa’s back. My eyes closed while I tried to settle my spirit, but peace seemed like a distant desire with no relief in sight. I felt very troubled. Peace evaded me.
One of my favorite psalms began to flow from my heart and escape my lips:
Hear my cry, O God; Attend to my prayer …
Open My Eyes Lord, I Can’t See You for The Tears
Lord, You promise to draw near to the brokenhearted and those crushed in spirit. By faith, I know this to be true. But lately, I can’t see You because of my tears. Open my eyes Lord.
You are my faithful God, merciful and kind. I have no reason to doubt Your promises, but my circumstances are consuming me. My attention is focused there, like I’m in a headlock of the enemy and I can’t lift my head to behold Your glory.
God Knows My Heart Before I Utter a Word
I held the warmth of my coffee cup to my chin, allowing the steam to rise and help remove the chill of this frosty spring morning. Sitting quietly, gazing out the window at the wonder of God’s creation, I sensed God’s presence drawing near. We didn’t speak. There was no need. God knows my heart before I utter a word.
David’s dementia is increasing, his ability to reason escaping his gentle spirit. It’s been a hard few days … and I needed to be held in my Savior’s love.
I’m Built on The Rock but Mercy this Storm is Fierce
Lord, how easily I belt out, On Christ the Solid Rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand … I have done my best over all these years to live this Truth out loud. I’m built on the Rock, for sure, but goodness gracious, I’ve been taking a beating lately.
As have many of Your children.
When Winter Lingers, Even Though It’s Spring
Our porch thermometer registered a brisk twenty-six degrees this morning — this first day of spring. The old apple tree is beginning to form tiny buds on its branches, my rose bushes are awakening from their slumber … spring is here, and yet winter lingers with its frosty mornings and oyster gray skies.
As I observed the contrast of two seasons — their merging, their conflict — I thought about my spirit. And yours.
Rise Up, O God, and Scatter My Enemies. Life is Hard
Lord, I love the power of Your might, and I love the tenderness of Your watch-care over Your children. Your love guards us fiercely. Rise up, O God, and scatter my enemies. They are many and are making life hard.
My enemies aren’t clothed in flesh and blood. They are principalities of darkness that won’t leave me alone. They know just how to trigger fear and upsettedness in me. They know how to make me question everything, how to stir discontentment in my heart.
A Heart Connection Amid a Cacophony of Noise
Against the backdrop of a dusty, dry desert, a grass-covered pasture graces the outskirts of Bethlehem. It’s known as Shepherd’s Field. Shepherds bring their flocks there to graze and lie down on the lush, tender grass — many shepherds and many flocks at the same time. It’s not hard for an observer to realize the strong heart connection each shepherd has with his sheep amid the noise.
As the sun begins to inch toward the horizon at the closing of the day, each shepherd calls to his sheep. To the observer, there is a cacophony of voices traveling across the hillside. But to the sheep, they hear one voice …
I’m Afraid, But I Don’t Want to Be. Help Me Lord
Lord, many are the afflictions of the righteous, but You promise to deliver us out of them all. You promise to be our shelter in the storm, our refuge, our strong tower we can run into and be safe. Even so, I’m afraid Lord, but I don’t want to be.
Would You draw ever closer and remind me of who I am to You?
How to Resist Satan and Not Become His Lunch
We’ve adopted a stray cat, Emily. She is shaped like a raccoon, walks with a hitch in her left hip, has half of a white mustache on her orange and black shag-rug-from-the-seventies fur. Little did I know this precious, misfit kitty was going to give me a lesson on how to resist Satan.
Birdfeeders outside our window see a flurry of activity, especially in the mornings. An array of birds take turns swooping in for a breakfast treat, singing their merry songs, chattering away the lingering darkness. My heart smiles as I sit quietly to watch.
This morning Emily discovered the birds.