When I was younger, I was so afraid of the dark...In fact, I would go into my little sister's room every night, counting on her to protect me with her crazy fierceness. I mean, what monster or alien or intruder wouldn't run, screaming for the hills at the sight of a roly poly 8 year old whose skill in battle was honed over years of playing cello, reading Laura Ingles, and singing in the shower. Terrifying, really...?
All I truly wanted was to not wonder what every bump or scratch or creak might be. I wanted someone to tell me that everything was ok...that I was safe. Maybe that's why little girls love their daddy's...because if they are good dads, then they become our protector, our hero, our savior. They can slay monsters and run off intruders. They draw us close and keep us. To be a little girl in your daddy's arms...
There was such a girl, maybe 3 or 4 years old, last week at the Drip who sat in her dad's lap as he told her a story. She snuggled there, riveted by him, hanging on every word, sucking her thumb in complete peace.
It was a lovely picture of what I long for with the Lord...to draw near, riveted by Him, hanging on His every word, in complete peace.
I remember during a particularly tumultuous time in my life, I lay in my bed and sobbed...It is Well with My Soul played in the background. At that moment, I truly felt that I was under His wings, close to His heart. I was safe.
When my faith fails and the dark becomes frightening again, the Lord, in great grace and faithfulness, still welcomes me back with strong arms.
He is God, and He, oddly enough, longs to hold us in those arms. He longs to hide us beneath His wings. He longs to be our refuge. When the world is shaken and nothing stands, I will run into Your hands...O that He might be the one we hold to as our protector, our hero, our Savior. His love is great, and love never fails...in Him, the dark isn't dark anymore.