I sit here resistant. My hands type but my mind locks up . . . what will my hands tell you as they stretch out among this keyboard? That I've been frought with worry? That I l sometimes lay awake at night trembling and fearful, my ears atune to the smallest of sounds, and my body paralyzed in a cold sweat? Will they tell you that I'm broken, even though you already know?
I've not suffered as others have. I've not lost as others have. I've not been left wanting or hungry nor has my health been lost. I've not been mistreated. Yet, my heart aches with a deep aching - what is this pain?
The mote that divides with it's alligator infested waters? The reality that there is no tangible safe place - no wall so high, no security system so tight, no 24 hour guard so scary, no big dog fierce enough, no earthly army capable of squelching all evil? And even if there were such things, the reality is that life is meant to be lived and shared letting people in, not keeping them out, regardless of the joy and agony that earthly relationships may bring. The truth that my faith is being perfected, and being perfected means that the muck must rise to the top and be skimmed away, ouch - it hurts, and it's messy. The test of remaining joyful in spite of worldly turmoil, which involves a death to my fleshly ideals and creature comforts - has me fighting tooth and nail for God's word to prevail.
The truth of Psalm 91:3 springs forth like a bridge over the mote,
"Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty."
In the midst of worldly turmoil, I must not only trust in, cling to, praise God from whom all blessings flow, but I must put one foot in front of the other and walk across that bridge, and then I must DWELL in the shelter! Not visit the shelter, pass by the shelter, marvel at the shelter, but dwell in it with the ONE who provides it.
The pain that paralyzes must disolve into the pain that propels me closer to the only ONE who can be my safe place, the only ONE whose approval I seek, the only ONE that has the power to transform a life. In spite of worldly turmoil, today I will give thanks to God for this day and all of it's freshy, fresh opportunities to know Him more, trust Him more and share Him more.
Resistance gives way to surrender, and surrender I must. Daily. Apart from Christ, I am hopeless, powerless and useless, but under the umbrella of Him I am hopeful, powered by the Spirit, and effective. In spite of worldly turmoil, of which I truly no little of but am promised to be inflicted by, I will remain joyfully undaunted because I am daughter to the Most High, sheltered by Him and welcomed to dwell and rest. He is my safe place.