Peace, Not Anxiety

Share this!

Standing at the window watching the downpour, I realize why I love rain. The sound of thunder and lightning ever reminds me of my mother. Not because she had a fiery personality, but because we always needed rainfall.

Growing up as a dry land farmer’s daughter, we were always asking God for “moisture” in our family. My mother wasn’t incredibly specific about how it should arrive. Mist and fog both counted, for either was better than nothing. I can still hear her soft, rhythmic voice asking our Heavenly Provider for “a shower of blessing.”

When the rain did come, especially in the summer, it was usually with force — pelting heavily with a good chance of hail. Yet, even as the clouds rolled in and the skies darkened, God had heard. Not only would I experience first hand His answered prayer, but I would do so from my mother’s lap.

If the thunder rumbled and the lightning flashed, Mama and I sat together at our screen door and watched the spectacle. We usually snuggled in silence unless the storms’ intensity caused my mother to voice her inaudible prayers. Sometimes, we watched it hail, and sometimes, we crouched in an interior room, awaiting the tornado threat to pass. My mother may have been afraid, but she never infected me with that fear. I always felt safe, nestled beside her.

Today, as we read the headlines, the storms of our world intensify—the uproar of division, disease, and distrust rumble in the distance. There seems much to fear.

And yet, this morning, as I watch the drizzle, I remember I have a safe spot to go, far above the whirlwind of terror and tyranny. He is “my Refuge and my Fortress, my God, in whom I trust” (Psalm 91:2).

It’s not a place of emotion or understanding. I can’t go there with my feelings or through my lofty thoughts. This destination is both higher and deeper than my comprehension or stirring sentiments.

I ascend here through a simple supplication with thanksgiving, and I snuggle into the warmth by rising above the rabble of the news. Quite simply, it’s a place expansively larger than me. His arms are the safe place to settle into my Spiritual Refuge, far above what my mind and emotions can see.

And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, shall guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:7).

I am delighted to find that when I go to my Strong Tower, He does His part by putting a guarded mote around my heart and mind. I need that. His protection is like a military guard, which stations His forces to prevent hostile invasion from flooding into this place of refuge. Even more than my mother’s arms, “the Lord is the defense of my life, whom shall I dread” (Psalm 27:1).

“Lord, guard me against wandering out of Your Fortress. I faith Your safety. Guard me against meandering back into fear, Amen.”