Neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:39
Nothing can separate us from the love of Christ. Nothing. Then, why do I feel broken? When I neglect my time alone with Father God, I allow anxiety, fear and the cares of this world to invade my heart, and if I don’t rebuke the evil one’s lies and replace them with God’s word about His love for me, His blessings and His care, I wind up in a mess. Stirred up, angry, resentful and anxiety ridden.
I need alone time, but I go to bed and hope it passes. It doesn’t. I wake up. It’s 2:00 in the morning.
“Father God,” I speak into my pillow. “I just want to sit at your feet. I don’t want to ask for Your help again because you’ve done that so many times, helped me, blessed me.”
“Yet, You tell me to ask because You love me so much. But, I think what’s going on in my upside down heart can be handled by resting in You. I listen and wait, but the noise in my head is so loud it shuts out everything else, and the harder I try, the more the silence crowds me.”
I toss and turn. My sheets tangle around my feet and I stare blankly at the ceiling, hoping this time will be a night You show me Your face, Father God, Your plans for me and for the people whose lives you’ve planned for my life to touch with Your love and grace. I cringe at the last thought. In this state, how can I help anyone?
Quiet’s cymbals crash in my ears, and I sense my breathing quicken. I put my hands on my chest, attempting to slow it’s rise and fall, to calm myself so I can sense the Holy Spirit’s quiet whisper. “I know I’m not,” I speak into the dark. “But tonight . . . I feel lost. I know Your Spirit lives inside me, so I can’t be without You no matter what I feel.” That last thought signals my faith to rise. I feel safe, and stop thrashing.
“So,” I whisper, “Help me, Lord, I love You. Forgive me for allowing lies and fear to sit on Your throne in my heart instead of faith. I just want to be with You, now.”
I praise Him for His majesty and holiness. Tears roll down my cheeks and puddle in my ears. “Thank you for loving me and holding me in the palm of Your hand and in Your unwavering heart. You made me, You know all my days from the beginning of time. You have a plan for me. Your constant faithfulness woos me. Your strength carries me.”
The peaceful transition I long for begins. I learned a long time ago about what the “deer panting for water” means. As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God. Psalms 42:1
Only the Father will satisfy my thirst. Peace floods me and washes over me in waves, and after some time praying in the Spirit, I feel the weighty pressure of His presence. It’s like my body is being gently pushed down on the mattress and my breathing slows. Every part of me noticeably, physically relaxes. The calm is amazing. Nothing can come to me that He doesn’t allow and I remember again His mercy. Literally, I don’t want to move because I don’t want to ruin the heavy beauty of the moment. I wait for His voice, or for Him to show me a picture or give me a scripture. I inhale the thick peace cocooning me.
It’s wonderful. Every time is like the first time I felt the weightiness of Him here with me. I long for this, His presence, and He doesn’t disappoint.
Everything I brooded over fades away. It’s just God and me.
I wait in quietness. He loves me back to sanity and peace, forgiving me for not taking my thoughts captive to Jesus Christ which is how I ended up in the chaos of “what ifs”.
God created each of us to have an intimate relationship with Him. He wants us. Make a place in your heart for Him to dwell.
Can God find a resting place in you? I hope so.
Amen . . .