There are so many places we can go for refuge. I remember when I was young, when things went bang in the night, or when I felt anxious over trivial or gigantic matters, I would go to my room where I lived on the top bunk. I would put on an 8 track and pull Raggedy Anne in real close surrounded by her favorite friends. There I would try to get lost from my surroundings, escape to any far off place where everything smelled good, tasted good, and felt good to the touch. Places where I did not cover my eyes or hold my hands over my ears blocking out loud noises or disheartening images of loneliness. In my mind, I arrived at fragrant gardens, lush blue skies, warm days with cool breezes. I would rest there as long as I could stay. That is until something snapped me back to reality. Sometimes that was a growling stomach or a random fist fight happening in the living room. Sometimes I came back to let's eat, wash your hands, and guess what, I made banana pudding.
When I met Christ in my early teens I found a new place to go for refuge. At first, it was not easy to get to a mind space of complete calm and tranquility. Because I did not hear, see, or feel a tangible presence, I felt vulnerable and uncertain. When I asked for something in prayer I felt like I was rolling the dice, maybe He will maybe He won't. I used God's answers to my prayers not as a test of my faith but a test of his promises kept. When my prayers went unanswered, I immediately went back to my make believe gardens with blue skies, warm days, and cool breezes. And so my relationship with Christ went for several years.
I noticed how a lot people around me took their refuge. Many more than I care to count took their sorrows, prayers, and desires to the wobbly stool at the local bar. Sometimes they came away feeling better, at least for a little while. They did at least seem pacified. I often wondered if God met them at that bar. Anyway who was I to judge? I was looking for my own escape.
Once I started investing real time in prayer and in reading God's word, things really began to change for me. Somewhere along the way I learned how to ask for what I needed in prayer. And I knew that it was not my words that God was hearing but it was my heart. So without trying to be perfect in delivery, I just laid it out there for his consideration. I ended every prayer with "your will be done." And I left it there, not in gamey anticipation of what I hoped He might do for me, but rather in full expectation of what I knew He would deliver in due season. Once I put it on His alter I backed away, resolved to allowing my Father to do what He said He would do.
PSALM 118 8 It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in people. I have no doubt I do not belong on a wobbly barstool. But I am resolved in my heart that if that is where God found me, He would hear my prayers there too.
When I met Christ in my early teens I found a new place to go for refuge. At first, it was not easy to get to a mind space of complete calm and tranquility. Because I did not hear, see, or feel a tangible presence, I felt vulnerable and uncertain. When I asked for something in prayer I felt like I was rolling the dice, maybe He will maybe He won't. I used God's answers to my prayers not as a test of my faith but a test of his promises kept. When my prayers went unanswered, I immediately went back to my make believe gardens with blue skies, warm days, and cool breezes. And so my relationship with Christ went for several years.
I noticed how a lot people around me took their refuge. Many more than I care to count took their sorrows, prayers, and desires to the wobbly stool at the local bar. Sometimes they came away feeling better, at least for a little while. They did at least seem pacified. I often wondered if God met them at that bar. Anyway who was I to judge? I was looking for my own escape.
Once I started investing real time in prayer and in reading God's word, things really began to change for me. Somewhere along the way I learned how to ask for what I needed in prayer. And I knew that it was not my words that God was hearing but it was my heart. So without trying to be perfect in delivery, I just laid it out there for his consideration. I ended every prayer with "your will be done." And I left it there, not in gamey anticipation of what I hoped He might do for me, but rather in full expectation of what I knew He would deliver in due season. Once I put it on His alter I backed away, resolved to allowing my Father to do what He said He would do.
PSALM 118 8 It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in people. I have no doubt I do not belong on a wobbly barstool. But I am resolved in my heart that if that is where God found me, He would hear my prayers there too.
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