Hope is My Anchor
Strength for your soul amid life's storms October 2003
_______________________________________________________________
"God is always with us," I was saying to my son.
"Yeah, I know that," he said. Somehow our conversation reminded me of the ones I
had with my Grandma years ago—one where in a hidden place in my heart I sensed
that she knew something that I didn’t grasp. Yet in my mind I couldn’t comprehend
what made her linger, or what depth she found that escaped my notice. What was so
fascinating to her that it held her captive?
God is with us. A simple fact to my son. Yet to me a depth of truth that I will never
fully fathom—and one I repeatedly fail to grasp, although God patiently reveals it time
and again.
A couple of weeks ago, we went camping (which now that Dave has Lyme always
seems a precarious thing to do—where there is tall grass or trees or deer, there are
ticks!) We had a wonderful time—except when we ate. The bees swarmed us at
every meal!
The first day only 5 or so, I quickly swatted them. But to no avail—"Come to the
feast!" they hummed before their demise. By the third day no less than two dozen
trailed me as I attempted to make sandwiches at another table. I spent 5 or 10
minutes killing bees, and still they kept coming. An anger that quite surprised me
welled up within. I remember thinking I don’t care, I will win, but fury only seemed
to beget more bees. We ate out that night and I prayed that my anger wouldn’t ruin
our trip—then the bees really would win.
The flies were as bad, and several found their way into our van on the way home. One
in particular would not leave my leg alone. I swatted, he persisted, bouncing, tickling,
buzzing, and nibbling, his spindly legs traipsing over mine with reckless abandon. I
tried to shoo him out the window, I tried to ignore him (hoping to not get in an
accident at 65 mph!). I thought about my anger at the bees—is that who I really am?
But that is not who I want to be—not one controlled by anger, but one who finds
another way. Finally I grabbed one of our kids’ blankets & threw it over my legs. I
never felt that fly again, and had a peaceful trip home. I had, at last, found protection.
The blanket immediately took my mind to Ruth, when she offered herself to Boaz for
marriage and sought His protection:
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I am your servant Ruth," she said. "Spread the corner of your garment over
me, since you are a kinsman-redeemer." —Ruth 3:9
God expresses His commitment to the nation of Israel in Ezekiel 16:8 in the same
way. He spread the corner of His garment over her. It was an expression of love, of
devotion, of a marriage commitment, of protection—of His ultimate and unending
presence. The Hebrew word translated corner literally means "wings," and is the same
word used in Ruth 2:12, "May you be richly rewarded by the Lord, the God of Israel,
under whose wings you have come to take refuge."
Do we seek His protection, do we seek refuge in God? I find I still seek refuge by
seeking a change in my circumstances. Asking God to send away the bees—or Dave’
s Lyme disease—or any other problem I have, is foremost on my mind.
Asking God to protect me by giving me patience, protecting me from my overzealous
and irrational knee-jerk emotions, changing my response to one in tune with loving
those around me—this is not what comes most natural to me.
For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in
the shelter of his tabernacle and set me high upon a rock. —Ps 27:5
The promise is that IN the day of trouble—and not necessarily FROM the day of
trouble, He will hide me in Him.
The last few weeks Dave has not felt as well. Some days he gets up in the morning
to go to the bathroom and needs to rest before getting dressed. As always it is hard
for me to tell in the midst, is this a herx, has something changed, is something not
working—is he relapsing again? And in my mind I fight and lash out and rage and
seek something to attack—but there is nothing. The foe is intangible, slipping through
my fingers, coming and going without warning.
Yet in the midst of it all, God comes to me still, asking, Who are you?
My heart seeks to yield and say, I am your servant. Spread the corner of your
garment over me, since you are my kinsman-redeemer. In Christ we have the
ultimate redeemer, for salvation and for eternity. Do I draw near to Him to the depth
of His rich devotion and commitment to me? Do I seek the protection He offers? Do I
let Him cover me with His presence? I am with you always, He says
Sometimes I think, God, all Dave wants to do is teach Sunday school right now!
Why does that have to be a battle? I want the warrior God, the one who rescues
and fights and wins on my behalf! He is all of that, but in His timing and according to
His will. So I learn to wait, seeking the molding of my strong will to His, the changing
of my heart and mind—and the rest and peace and protection that comes when I do
that.
The bees won a battle—but God is winning the war for my mind and for my life. And
in Him I find hope. May He spread the corner of His garment over you.
Clothed with Christ,
Merry Marinello
Strength for your soul amid life's storms October 2003
_______________________________________________________________
"God is always with us," I was saying to my son.
"Yeah, I know that," he said. Somehow our conversation reminded me of the ones I
had with my Grandma years ago—one where in a hidden place in my heart I sensed
that she knew something that I didn’t grasp. Yet in my mind I couldn’t comprehend
what made her linger, or what depth she found that escaped my notice. What was so
fascinating to her that it held her captive?
God is with us. A simple fact to my son. Yet to me a depth of truth that I will never
fully fathom—and one I repeatedly fail to grasp, although God patiently reveals it time
and again.
A couple of weeks ago, we went camping (which now that Dave has Lyme always
seems a precarious thing to do—where there is tall grass or trees or deer, there are
ticks!) We had a wonderful time—except when we ate. The bees swarmed us at
every meal!
The first day only 5 or so, I quickly swatted them. But to no avail—"Come to the
feast!" they hummed before their demise. By the third day no less than two dozen
trailed me as I attempted to make sandwiches at another table. I spent 5 or 10
minutes killing bees, and still they kept coming. An anger that quite surprised me
welled up within. I remember thinking I don’t care, I will win, but fury only seemed
to beget more bees. We ate out that night and I prayed that my anger wouldn’t ruin
our trip—then the bees really would win.
The flies were as bad, and several found their way into our van on the way home. One
in particular would not leave my leg alone. I swatted, he persisted, bouncing, tickling,
buzzing, and nibbling, his spindly legs traipsing over mine with reckless abandon. I
tried to shoo him out the window, I tried to ignore him (hoping to not get in an
accident at 65 mph!). I thought about my anger at the bees—is that who I really am?
But that is not who I want to be—not one controlled by anger, but one who finds
another way. Finally I grabbed one of our kids’ blankets & threw it over my legs. I
never felt that fly again, and had a peaceful trip home. I had, at last, found protection.
The blanket immediately took my mind to Ruth, when she offered herself to Boaz for
marriage and sought His protection:
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I am your servant Ruth," she said. "Spread the corner of your garment over
me, since you are a kinsman-redeemer." —Ruth 3:9
God expresses His commitment to the nation of Israel in Ezekiel 16:8 in the same
way. He spread the corner of His garment over her. It was an expression of love, of
devotion, of a marriage commitment, of protection—of His ultimate and unending
presence. The Hebrew word translated corner literally means "wings," and is the same
word used in Ruth 2:12, "May you be richly rewarded by the Lord, the God of Israel,
under whose wings you have come to take refuge."
Do we seek His protection, do we seek refuge in God? I find I still seek refuge by
seeking a change in my circumstances. Asking God to send away the bees—or Dave’
s Lyme disease—or any other problem I have, is foremost on my mind.
Asking God to protect me by giving me patience, protecting me from my overzealous
and irrational knee-jerk emotions, changing my response to one in tune with loving
those around me—this is not what comes most natural to me.
For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in
the shelter of his tabernacle and set me high upon a rock. —Ps 27:5
The promise is that IN the day of trouble—and not necessarily FROM the day of
trouble, He will hide me in Him.
The last few weeks Dave has not felt as well. Some days he gets up in the morning
to go to the bathroom and needs to rest before getting dressed. As always it is hard
for me to tell in the midst, is this a herx, has something changed, is something not
working—is he relapsing again? And in my mind I fight and lash out and rage and
seek something to attack—but there is nothing. The foe is intangible, slipping through
my fingers, coming and going without warning.
Yet in the midst of it all, God comes to me still, asking, Who are you?
My heart seeks to yield and say, I am your servant. Spread the corner of your
garment over me, since you are my kinsman-redeemer. In Christ we have the
ultimate redeemer, for salvation and for eternity. Do I draw near to Him to the depth
of His rich devotion and commitment to me? Do I seek the protection He offers? Do I
let Him cover me with His presence? I am with you always, He says
Sometimes I think, God, all Dave wants to do is teach Sunday school right now!
Why does that have to be a battle? I want the warrior God, the one who rescues
and fights and wins on my behalf! He is all of that, but in His timing and according to
His will. So I learn to wait, seeking the molding of my strong will to His, the changing
of my heart and mind—and the rest and peace and protection that comes when I do
that.
The bees won a battle—but God is winning the war for my mind and for my life. And
in Him I find hope. May He spread the corner of His garment over you.
Clothed with Christ,
Merry Marinello
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| God's Protection in the Day of Trouble Wonderful is the depth of thy words, whose surface is before us, gently leading on the little ones: and yet a wonderful deepness, O my God, a wonderful deepness. It is awe to look into it; even an awfulness of honor, and a trembling of love. —Augustine |
© 2004 Dave and Merry Marinello, all rights reserved.
Welcome! Thanks for visiting our little "harbor" amid life's storms. We hope you
will find rest and encouragement in your struggles, big or small. Here you can:
will find rest and encouragement in your struggles, big or small. Here you can:
"God's Protection in the Day of Trouble" October 2003 Newsletter
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Hope is My Anchor
Strength for your soul amid life's storms
Strength for your soul amid life's storms