I lean into the presence of God when I am lonely, afraid, discouraged or just plain tired. At no time in my life’s journey has God ever forsaken me; rather, as I lean harder on Him, He becomes a stronger comfort for me.
I know I have said on this blog before that I have moved twenty-five times since our marriage almost fifty two years ago. What I did not tell you was how each move took a little bit of stability away from me. I had lived in one home for most of my life, from early childhood until I graduated from college. That hometown was all I knew and the familiar places were what spoke security to me. Then, when we got married, we began a series of moves, some harder than others and all of them challenging in their own way. God gave me a promise as I faced one move after another. Sometimes, we stayed in a place for a couple of years, sometimes only a year, and once or twice for as many as four years. The scripture that God spoke to my heart reassured me that the place was new, the people were new, but He would always be the same.
This is what God actually told the Israelites as they were getting ready to wander around in the wilderness on their way to the promised land. It is also what God told me as I once again packed boxes, suitcases and bags to prepare for another move. I was exhausted from taking care of the children, feeling almost like a single parent since everywhere we went, my husband was generally sent for some kind of training while I stayed in a new place with the children. God reassured me of His presence because I needed to know that I was not alone. When I had to move from a small apartment that was temporary while we waited for military housing, I was overwhelmed with all that I had to do. The apartment was furnished. The base housing was not. I was in a new place with few friends and no family except for a small child and one on the way. So, I did what I was comfortable doing and called the pastor of the church that I had been attending for the few months I had lived there. He got a group of people who rallied around found furniture for me and moved me into the new place on base. I don’t recall everything about that move, but I do remember the unselfishness and kindness of God’s people and the thought that God was indeed with me. When I gave birth alone in the naval hospital (my husband was on a ship floating around on the other side of the world), a neighbor took me to the hospital and took care of my daughter until my friend from church could come and take care of her. God’s presence is real and He sends His helpers to be there right on time.
I have clung to God’s promises for over five decades, through all of the moves, the fear and the loneliness and the feeling of being uprooted constantly. God has always been there for me. It was His presence that calmed me when I had a stroke and no one could get my husband to answer his phone. It was His presence that spoke peace to my heart when I was unable to speak and tell the doctors what was happening to me. I could not speak, but I could pray. And when Harry made it to the ER (he had been in the garden and didn’t hear his phone), it was God who spoke to both of us telling us that my best chance for survival was a clot-busting shot that could also kill me if it did not work. Peace, God’s assurance, hope, safety and security. All these years later, God’s Word has never failed me and His presence has gone with me to eleven different states and twenty-five different homes. He is my home. He is my rest. He is my everything.
Vickie's Book Nook and Meditation Corner 