Psalms 61-62
In this evil world, it can be hard to hold on to truth, to morality, even common sense. You look at what’s happening and it’s hard to believe it will ever change for the better. Insanity’s voice is drowning out reality, and mental illness is not only celebrated, it is doing unspeakable things to children.
Those who are brave enough to stand up to the mob are being silenced and demonized. And it doesn’t seem like that is about to change any time soon.
Very often I find myself thinking like David:
“Take me away, Lord. Let me hide in the safety and security under the shelter of your wings. Appoint steadfast love and faithfulness to watch over me. You are my rock, my fortress, I shall not be greatly shaken. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.”
It’s understandable that we who have a relationship with God through the blood of Jesus would long for Him to wrap us up in His strong arms and shield us from the evil running rampant. It’s scary out there. It’s no longer a battle with easily identifiable enemies.
But are we really going to just bury our faces in God’s shoulder? Are we going to put our hands over our ears and block out the lies by loudly singing praise songs that remind us how blessed we are, and that our destiny is heaven? I doubt we’d admit to thinking, “Well, I’ve got my ticket. You’re on your own,” but I wonder if our actions (or lack of) are saying it anyway.
I love my time in God’s Word every day. I open up the pages of Scripture, crawl up into His lap, and read His Words, hear His voice, allow Him to speak to me. I pray, pour my heart out, and know He hears me. I wait. I rest. I’m fed. I’m often hugged, sometimes stuck by His loving hand of discipline. I’m encouraged and convicted… but always loved as I snuggle closer to Him every day.
Yes, I love this one-on-one time with my Heavenly Father. But I’m not going to sit here all day with my Bible open in front of me. I have VBS to prepare for, a dentist appoint, pickleball later. I have phone calls to make and laundry to do. It’s called life.
And it’s a battle. Am I going to hide, or am I going to fight? Am I going to throw my hands up and say, “I’m done,” or am I going to be the Christian woman God is molding, the warrior He’s training during my precious time alone with Him this morning? I can speak up, live loud, be the light. Or I can be a tool of the enemy with my silence.
I want my time with God to count for something. He deserves that.
And our world needs that. In my life. And in your’s.