Friday, November 20, 2009

Our best refuge

Last night was one of those weird nights. With no warning, and after a lovely day and evening, I dreamed cancer dreams all night. At 4:00 this morning, I got up briefly and then cried myself to sleep. It just felt good to cry. And my sweet husband, who was sound asleep at the time, rolled over and put his arms around me and mumbled, "It's alright". I was so thankful for that sleepy assurance! I thanked God for my best friend that very minute.

And then my mind wandered to my friend Marie, whose best friend lost his fight with cancer not many days ago. I bet she has tears in the middle of the night, but now no arms for comfort. I asked God to be her comfort, and mine. I asked that the Lord would graciously keep me from using my husband as a substitute for my Lord. Whatever the circumstances, God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in times of trouble (Psalm 46). He is where I should always go first for comfort.

And once again, Spurgeon spoke to the heart of the matter today:

My best security is within the munitions of an immutable Jehovah, where His unalterable promises stand like giant walls of rock. It will be well with thee, my heart, if thou canst always hide thyself in the bulwarks of His glorious attributes, all of which are guarantees of safety for those who put their trust in Him...My heart, run to Him anew to-night, whatever thy present grief may be; Jesus feels for thee; Jesus consoles thee; Jesus will help thee. No monarch in his impregnable fortress is more secure than the cony in his rocky burrow...Faith gives to men on earth the protection of the God of heaven. More they cannot need, and need not wish. The conies cannot build a castle, but they avail themselves of what is there already: I cannot make myself a refuge, but Jesus has provided it, His Father has given it, His Spirit has revealed it, and lo, again to-night I enter it, and am safe from every foe.
~ C. H. Spurgeon, Morning and Evening, November 20

May you be safe upon that rock today, Gentle Reader.

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