When you don't feel brave, He'll be brave for you...
Stressed is desserts spelled backwards. If this is the case, I need a full bakery. June and July have been a kick in the teeth. There hasn't been a single moment where I've felt "caught up." I could pitch a tent in my office for a week and still be behind. And this isn't just work, either. It's everything. These past few months I have felt like I am barely keeping my head above water. But I'm still swimming.
The Lord has been giving me lesson after lesson on trust and fear. He's been asking me to really depend on him. To lay my burdens at his feet and leave them there. To stop worrying about the future or trying to figure out the next steps. And with each lesson, I'm really trying to be a good student. After all, the point is to learn, to remember, and to apply. At least, that's what my goal is when I am the one teaching. And so I am sitting like a wide-eyed school girl, pen in hand, notes on the page, and I've come to find that it's in the small, every day situations that God teaches me the most.
Aaron and I took Scout on a walk last week. Because of our schedule this summer, walks have not been a priority, so we make a good effort to try and take Scout on walks as much as possible. We need it, she needs it, and it's our time to decompress. We've got our little route memorize, our walking pattern down, and we even know how long it takes us to the minute. Aaron is the one who holds the leash because, well, Scout behaves better for him than she does for me. I haven't quite figured out why, but if she knows he's holding the leash, she walks a straight line. If she knows I'm hold the leash, she chokes herself and runs serpentine the whole way. Occasionally, if it's hot and she's panting, we'll find a tree and sit down for a rest. She knows right where the designated rest spots are, and she'll stand her ground if she needs a break. But the other night we had beautiful weather, cool temperatures, and our walk was going well until the half way mark.
Aaron stopped walking and bent down to pick up Scout. I was in mid-sentence, rattling on about who knows what, and I realized he was a few steps behind me. I turned around and he was just standing on the sidewalk holding Scout. I said, "What are you doing?" And then I looked past him and saw another dog barreling down the street, running full speed ahead. It wasn't a big dog by any means. Maybe 20 or 30 pounds. Of course, compared to Scout, that's huge. This dog was on a mission, and Scout was the prize. It barked and growled, and I could tell it wasn't coming to over to make friends. It was protecting it's block, and that dog wanted us to know that we weren't welcome. My heart started to speed up, and I wasn't sure if we were supposed to run or not. Orange Theory has gotten us into shape, but I'm fairly certain I'd still lose that race had I tried. I just stood there hoping that he wasn't a biter. I hoped that he'd turn around and head home. Because the truth is that I'm not real brave when it comes to dogs, especially aggressive ones. But Aaron stood his ground, with a firm grip on Scout, and he was brave for the both of us.
Sometimes life is scary. And, if you're anything like me, you begin to panic and worry about what might happen. You see those situations barreling towards you, and you don't know what to do. You stand there, frozen in your tracks, and your heart races. You cry out, "No, Lord! I can't do this. This is too scary. Too terrifying. I'm not brave enough to do this. I'm too afraid." And when you think you can't do it, when you feel like you're about to be consumed, you remember that He will be brave for you. He isn't afraid. He doesn't fear. He will stand his ground, holding you close, and you'll be okay. He won't let you go. He won't abandon you in your time of need. He is your shelter, your high place, your refuge. And you will be safe. You will not be overcome. No one, no thing, can snatch you from his hands.
You may not feel brave, and that's okay. He will be brave for you.
"From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I. For you have been my refuge, a strong tower against the foe." - Psalm 61:2-3
The Lord has been giving me lesson after lesson on trust and fear. He's been asking me to really depend on him. To lay my burdens at his feet and leave them there. To stop worrying about the future or trying to figure out the next steps. And with each lesson, I'm really trying to be a good student. After all, the point is to learn, to remember, and to apply. At least, that's what my goal is when I am the one teaching. And so I am sitting like a wide-eyed school girl, pen in hand, notes on the page, and I've come to find that it's in the small, every day situations that God teaches me the most.
Aaron and I took Scout on a walk last week. Because of our schedule this summer, walks have not been a priority, so we make a good effort to try and take Scout on walks as much as possible. We need it, she needs it, and it's our time to decompress. We've got our little route memorize, our walking pattern down, and we even know how long it takes us to the minute. Aaron is the one who holds the leash because, well, Scout behaves better for him than she does for me. I haven't quite figured out why, but if she knows he's holding the leash, she walks a straight line. If she knows I'm hold the leash, she chokes herself and runs serpentine the whole way. Occasionally, if it's hot and she's panting, we'll find a tree and sit down for a rest. She knows right where the designated rest spots are, and she'll stand her ground if she needs a break. But the other night we had beautiful weather, cool temperatures, and our walk was going well until the half way mark.
Aaron stopped walking and bent down to pick up Scout. I was in mid-sentence, rattling on about who knows what, and I realized he was a few steps behind me. I turned around and he was just standing on the sidewalk holding Scout. I said, "What are you doing?" And then I looked past him and saw another dog barreling down the street, running full speed ahead. It wasn't a big dog by any means. Maybe 20 or 30 pounds. Of course, compared to Scout, that's huge. This dog was on a mission, and Scout was the prize. It barked and growled, and I could tell it wasn't coming to over to make friends. It was protecting it's block, and that dog wanted us to know that we weren't welcome. My heart started to speed up, and I wasn't sure if we were supposed to run or not. Orange Theory has gotten us into shape, but I'm fairly certain I'd still lose that race had I tried. I just stood there hoping that he wasn't a biter. I hoped that he'd turn around and head home. Because the truth is that I'm not real brave when it comes to dogs, especially aggressive ones. But Aaron stood his ground, with a firm grip on Scout, and he was brave for the both of us.
Sometimes life is scary. And, if you're anything like me, you begin to panic and worry about what might happen. You see those situations barreling towards you, and you don't know what to do. You stand there, frozen in your tracks, and your heart races. You cry out, "No, Lord! I can't do this. This is too scary. Too terrifying. I'm not brave enough to do this. I'm too afraid." And when you think you can't do it, when you feel like you're about to be consumed, you remember that He will be brave for you. He isn't afraid. He doesn't fear. He will stand his ground, holding you close, and you'll be okay. He won't let you go. He won't abandon you in your time of need. He is your shelter, your high place, your refuge. And you will be safe. You will not be overcome. No one, no thing, can snatch you from his hands.
You may not feel brave, and that's okay. He will be brave for you.
"From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I. For you have been my refuge, a strong tower against the foe." - Psalm 61:2-3
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