I hid under a blanket yesterday. Literally. The kids and I had been inside the walls of our home all day, because it’s frigid outside and I don’t do frigid gracefully. And, well, by 2:00 in the afternoon, my nerves were shot.
No major life crisis had happened, just the everyday relational quandaries. We were all getting on each other’s nerves, evidenced by bickering and tone of voice. I was even getting on my own nerves. Ever been there? So I hid. Under a blanket. And drew near to my God with music and Truth words. And He faithfully met me. He faithfully ministered to my frayed edges.
It’s the only solution. It’s the only place of peace. Peace, even in the presence of wild. Big wild and small wild. And drawing near to God in those moments reminded me, again, that much of our soul’s distress could be healed by simply lingering in the prayer closet with our God. (or under a blanket)
Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.
James 4:8a
Circumstances won’t necessarily change. Yesterday, it remained frigid and my kids continued to be like pinned up bulls. But our perspective can change. Our soul can change. Our pursuit can change. We can change.
Life will happen today, but we have a choice. We can choose to draw near to God, blanket or not. And He promises to draw near to us with peace that passes all human understanding.
Fill me, Lord…
How do you draw near to God when your soul is distressed?
I grew up on the old hymns. I’m severely hearing impaired so if I put in a new praise cd I don’t necessarily hear the words, but those old hymns…I just recall a few and sing them over and over and somehow God doesn’t mind my imperfect pitch or squeaky voice. He just ministers sweet peace and I’m comforted. (Instead of blanket, I sit in an old rocker by the wood stove and rock to the beat of my heart.)
“Rock to the beat of my heart.” I love that Nina.
This reminds me very much of Susanna Wesley, with her umpteen children, who used to pull her apron up over her head in order to find a calm with the Lord. I read somewhere that *everyone* knew to leave her alone while the apron was up.
My version lately has been me, on my knees, beside my bed, preceded by a big, loud, “Mommy needs a timeout!”
I’ve just returned from a ministry trip to Cambodia. I’m tired, so so tired. This post reminded me of exactly what I need to do to refresh my aching soul. Thank you.