New York City Makeover

Pinky, Reesie, La La, Noica—these are some of the names of women my daughter,  Alix and I encountered last week in a New York City women’s shelter. Women broken by life and some by husbands. Women mentally ill in some cases. A group of 55 women traveled from Indiana to share the love of Jesus by washing dirty feet, massaging stressed hands, helping them choose a new outfit, styling straggly hair and putting makeup on tired faces and seeing smiles brighten once dark countenances.  As we encouraged this women with the words, “God loves you; you are valuable to Him,” we viewed visible changes. Shuffled feet became springy steps. Loud laughter replaced angry words. God visited this place where broken down, discarded women live. 

What did I learn on this trip to beautify women who feel ugly and unnoticed?

1.      Makeovers can change a person from the outside in. When you feel ugly, you act ugly. It works the same in my own life.  The day I throw on my shabby sweats and glasses sans makeup to make a quick trip to the grocery is one in which I prefer to remain incognito. Slink in and slink out because I’m feeling unkempt. These women, however, experience day upon day feeling forgotten and frumpy.  As ladies bounced from station to station, whether choosing a new outfit or sitting for someone to apply their makeup, a visible transformation like Cinderella emerging from her cinder-stained face and garments took place. Worn out, lackluster women began to believe the words each station worker voiced. “You are beautiful to Jesus; He loves you; you are not trash.”  

2.      Even homeless women desire to be heard and touched. I caressed hands and paid attention to some who had lost their identity, values and families. I listened to women speak with foreign accents and others mentally bewildered with stories a mile long. While tragic circumstances and even poor decisions had landed them in this place, my purpose lay in feeling their pain, hearing their cries and conveying that God sees them and knows their names.

3.      God doesn’t want me to be comfortable. It’s scary to step out of your comfort zone and do something you’ve never done before. Yet when I feel unqualified, He promises to equip me; I just need to be willing and available. Fear can hold us back from doing things God wants to do in and through us to impact the world around us. It’s the first step that’s the scariest! As I began to massage the first hand, heart thumping in my chest, I felt completely lost. Thoughts swirled in my brain, “What can I say that would make a difference to this wounded woman? How do I help and encourage her?” I jumped in with both feet, like Peter jumping out of the boat to walk on water to Jesus, and each conversation became easier and more comfortable, as God gave me His words and His strength.

4.      Serving brings great joy. By the end of the day, I was tired and spent, yet filled with joy because God had used me, in spite of all my fears and feelings of inadequacy. Not only had the women’s spirits brought me delight because of their physical transformations, but also the simple act of pouring out spilled gladness everywhere. Excitement and laughter filled the room as women departed in joyful thankfulness. The act of serving blessed me far more than it did these women.

5.      God is in the transformation business, not me. The word says, “Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord Almighty.” (Zechariah 4:6) My job this particular weekend was not to judge these women or force and cajole them to be different. Too often, I try to manipulate others through guilt trips or other methods. During this experience, my role was to listen, love and pray for these women and allow the Holy Spirit to work on their hearts. After all, Jesus is the only one who can create a clean heart in anyone. How freeing it is to know that someone’s transformation is not up to me yet realize that I have a vital part in relaying the message of love and everlasting life to those living in dark and desperate circumstances.

Perhaps this last lesson hit me the hardest as I reflect on the way I treat my family, my friends and others I encounter daily. My micro-managing and manipulation of others is ineffective and a poor substitute for the mighty power of God to change a life completely.  I am to be a vessel God can use, a conduit of His love and grace to those around me, so they can infected with His Spirit. In my willingness for God to work in and through me to impact my children, my church, my community, I pray that God pours out His Spirit in magnanimous ways, that I am not a hindrance to the work He wants to do in someone’s life, and most of all, that I always give God the glory for the changes that occur!

A Tween's Example

Every night when we tuck Maddie in, we take turns praying. For the past several years, on Maddie’s night to pray, she talks to God about Uncle Tim’s back. Every.single.time. One particular night, she asked me, “Why doesn’t God answer my prayer? How come Uncle Tim’s back is still hurting?”

“I don’t know, Maddie. I just know God is not like a magician. He doesn’t simply wave a magic wand and make everything the way we want it. Sometimes, He wants us to learn to trust Him in the midst of our unanswered prayers.”

Through the years of modeling prayer, we’ve prayed about school, friendships, sickness, bad attitudes and everything else in between. This little girl is grasping the importance of talking to Jesus about everything. A few weeks ago, she heard that her dear friend’s mother was experiencing some health issues. She immediately created a card, mailed it and began praying for her. Everyday, she’d ask, “Do you think she got my card yet, Mom?”

One day, I received a text from this sweet friend relaying thanks to my daughter for the card and the request she had placed in the prayer basket at church. My friend just happened to be on the 24 hour prayer chain that particular day and cried as she read Maddie’s heartfelt request for God to heal. It moved me too knowing that my daughter is realizing the importance of crying out to Jesus for every need.

I am often proud of my children for their school and sports accomplishments. But this particular day, Maddie’s developing prayer habit for those in need surpassed any champion medal she could’ve received. Her commitment to bring someone suffering before the God of the universe caused me to ponder my own passion to pray. What a beautiful reminder that God desires that our first impulse be to bring our concerns before Him, large or small.

In fact, a few days later, Maddie rattled off her own prayer request before boarding the school bus. “Hey, can you pray that I’m nice to Clay today and that I do well on my test?” How grateful I am that God hears our sincere petitions for kindness to that person who is difficult to love. Maddie’s example reminds me to bring all my concerns to my Savior who hears me whenever I call.   

Heart Surgery

This weekend I submitted myself to a heart examination. No, I didn’t check into a hospital or sit in a doctor’s office. Physically my heart is pumping blood like crazy. Spiritually, however, deadly problems lurk in the deep recesses where no one can see but God himself.

Annually a group of women travel to a distant monastery. Yes, I said monastery as in silence and solitude. We contemplate in stark rooms adorned with a crucifix. Our assignment is to unplug from all the distractions of technology: cell phones, computer, television, and read, rest and re-assess our hearts. While we have a little bit of an agenda including some group time, the majority is spent in the silence of our rooms or a walk outdoors or attending vespers or mass.

Moving from clamor and conversation to solitude and silence is difficult. At first, the quiet bothers me. It distracts my concentration. I can’t focus. My mind wanders down rabbit trails. It flits and flutters about like a butterfly, not resting on any particular subject for more than a second.  I look at the clock repeatedly. I have two hours before dinner, which speeds by quick as a wink when I’m at home taxiing kids to and from events, running errands in between and needing to create some sort of concoction to feed the family. But here? Two hours is eternity. I hardly know what to do with it. Do I read? Do I write? Do I take a walk in the unseasonably warm weather? I settle on slumber. Never do I take the opportunity to sleep during the middle of the afternoon, but I give myself permission today. My heart hurts, I’m tired and I want to shut out the world.

When I awake, my heart is still filled with ugly. The events of this past week have drained and dragged me down. My heart is consumed with anger, worry, fear, feelings of failure, insecurity, sadness, hopelessness. The roller coaster of life jarred me again, and I should know better. I know the Truth. However, my emotions blared much louder, drowning out the truth of God’s word, who He is and what He can do. So, I discover myself again in this place where God needs to root out my heart sickness. I read through Psalm 51:10-13,

“Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew

A steadfast spirit within me.

Do not cast me from your presence

Or take your Holy Spirit from me.

Restore to me the joy of your salvation

And grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.

Then I will teach transgressors your ways…”

My devotion reads that only God can “create” or “bara” my heart, and how I need him to perform that surgery in me. I’ve been vomiting caustic emotion everywhere this week, and yet, I’m still sick. I’ve sunk into depression like the psalmist in Psalm 42:5:

“Why are you in despair, O my soul?

And why have you become disturbed within me?

Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him

For the help of His presence.”

How do I climb out of this funk, let go of the junk contaminating my heart and let God heal me? What’s happening in my heart shows in my actions and words; it affects my family and my friends. Proverbs 4:23 states, “Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring (everything flows from it) of life.” So, I’ve let my guard down and let the muck and mire in. I’ve wallowed in the mud with the pigs like the prodigal son. The stench, like Pigpen in Charlie Brown, announces my arrival before I enter a room. Do I really desire this to be my modus operandi? An event triggers certain emotions and the pool of my heart begins filling up with anger, aggravation and anxiety. Every.single.time?

As I spent a day and a half processing and praying, a tiny bit of peace perched slightly above my heart, like a tentative bird at a feeder.  It sat hesitant, unsure, because other emotions still had squatter’s rights. Kelly Minter, in her book The Fitting Room says, “Peace has to be fought for, especially when hurt feeling and wrongs are barring its way.”  Isn’t that the truth? Frankly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to trade in my worry for peace. Somehow, worry caused me to believe I could control the situation. In the end, I cupped worry, fear, failure, anger and the rest of the gang in my hands and held it up to God.

“God, I can’t do this anymore. I need to give this to you.

Be my Peace.

Help me let go of worry that robs me of truly resting in You.

No matter what storms rage, allow me to experience Your peace—

Your peace that passes all understanding guarding my heart

And my mind in You.”

Yes, His peace will guard my heart and my mind, protecting me from the lies of an enemy who tells me I deserve to harbor bitterness and anger, to saturate myself with feelings of failure, to fill up with fear. When I immerse myself in Him and His truth about me, I expose the Light to my heart allowing God to perform spiritual heart surgery. Again, Kelly Minter writes, ”My truest peace has to do with God’s presence and what He says is true about me, not so much with everything holding together just so. It has little to do with my external circumstances and everything to do with the voice and nearness of God. I can have peace amidst tumult if only I have him.”

What emotions have been filling up your heart?

With what circumstances do you need to entrust Him?

Ask for His peace. Cling to Him.

Whatever It Takes

Lately, I’ve been pondering the words “whatever it takes.” One time in my life I prayed this small but powerful phrase out of sheer desperation. Apparently, God heard me because my world turned completely upside down. He answered my prayer, just not in the way I desired. So, I am petrified to pray those three simple words, yet I consider them because I know God will perform a work that cannot be accomplished otherwise.

Here’s the deal. When I prayed those words over 15 years ago, I anticipated the process of “whatever it takes.” God would change the heart of the person I was praying for by taking him through a transforming encounter. Whatever it takes for the other guy. Not me. Surely not me. After all, I’m not the problem. Good church girls who are God-honoring, giving and growing don’t need the “whatever it takes” field trip because we follow the yellow brick road, like Dorothy in the “Wizard of Oz.” However, just like Dorothy, we face a few obstacles along the way that prevent us from skipping down the path straight to the wizard.

For two years, I took the trip when I expressly prayed that God mold, melt and make him into a Godly man. Unfortunately, the person for whom I prayed self-destructed. God used my prayer to change me instead. Not quite what I expected. Yet, in the process, I did whatever it took to cling to God. And, He used this simple prayer to perform whatever it took for me fix my eyes solely on Him. He grabbed my attention and holds it even now.

So, I’m thinking about praying this phrase but scared at the same time. I hesitate to throw these words out, to utter them out loud. God will answer, and what if He wants to change me instead? Surely, I’m not the one who needs another field trip.

Diving into Fear or Faith?

Maddie’s feet, frozen to the diving board, would not budge. Shoulders hunched and arms tense, fear fixed her body in one place, immovable. Teammates yelled encouragement, “You can do it, Maddie. You got this!” Their words couldn’t penetrate through the fear gripping her like a vise. She attempted to move her feet, walking two steps forward and then reversed, changing her mind. What if...?

Minutes earlier Maddie attempted her first reverse dive without the belt and cables attached. She ran off the board, kicked her feet into the air, hurling herself backward into the reverse position only to slam her back on top of the water. The sound reverberated through the building as I spontaneously groaned. The lifeguard looked up at me, the groaner from the bleachers. Body jutting forward in anticipation, I held my breath waiting for Maddie to climb out of the water. Holding back tears, she stood before her coach while he asked if she was okay. Maddie grimly nodded without speaking, tears threatening to break loose. She determined to be brave even though her back throbbed in pain. Coach Will directed her back to the diving board to reattempt the dive. Slowly, glumly, she padded her feet forward, letting the other divers cut in front of her several times before the coach caught on.

“Ok, Maddie. You have to go. You can do this.”

We waited. And waited. And waited. One teammate pulled her aside and gave her a pep talk. The coach hooked her up to the cable again for a quick security dive. After removing the cable, she mounted the board, stared at the water and then at the sky where her feet were supposed to kick. Instead of performing the dive, she straight jumped into the water from the board. Another distraction. Minutes passed of standing on the diving board, staring at the water and sky again, willing her legs kicking high into the air, hands and face into the water and not her back on top of it! Minutes ticked into an hour.  Practice was an hour over, yet Maddie’s teammates hung around to offer words of encouragement. Still, no dive. Fear wrapped around her mind like a boa constrictor, and it wouldn’t let go. Finally, the coach released Maddie from repeating the dive until the next practice when she’d face that board, that dive and that fear again.

The coach desperately desired that Maddie nail that dive successfully before she left practice. He didn’t want her to wait so she could stew and fret and worry. He knew that if Maddie went home having performed her reverse dive, her confidence would build instead of her fear. Instead, her fears still loom like monsters in the dark until the next practice.

Fear is defined as a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined. Maddie told me later that her mind told her to take that dive, but her body wouldn’t move. The threat of her 60 pound body smacking the water chained her to the board like a prisoner.  What will break that chain of fear holding her fast?

Fear can be healthy when it cautions to be careful around a dangerous situation. We teach our children to fear walking in front of cars on a busy street. Be careful and always look both ways, we tell them. When we encounter an animal, we maintain distance until we know it’s safe. Many of us won’t venture into a dangerous part of a big city by ourselves after dark. Fear causes us to take extra precautions when we travel to a foreign country. Fear can keep us alive!

On the other hand, fear has the power to keep us from experiencing all that God has for us. We don’t fly in airplanes because they might crash. We don’t let our children out of our control because something bad might happen. We shy away from deepening friendships because we might get hurt. Our fears range from the seemingly reasonable to the extremely irrational.  We are each uniquely created. Both our environments and our personalities play roles in our fears. Some of us were born with a predisposition for certain fears and others developed fears at a young age due to circumstances. Some fears grew out of painful situations, and others seem silly. No matter what our fears may be, we need to determine whether they are keeping us stuck in a holding pattern like an airplane that must keep circling the sky before it can land. What might we experience if we replace that fear with faith? What are we missing because we are too scared, like Maddie glued to the diving board?

God may or may not magically take away our fears. He desires us to work through them, replacing fear with faith. Every “what if” that deters us from experiencing all that God has planned for us, we ought to take captive. We need to keep taking steps of faith down the diving board, flinging our feet up into the air, relying on Him to catch us as we soar through the air. Then, we can enjoy the splash of hands and face, not back, diving deep into the life-giving water that fuels our faith instead of our fear.

What fear do you need to entrust to God? 

Just a Little Bit of Magic, Please?

When my sister and I were in elementary school, we believed we had magical powers. One day while plodding down our street during a drizzly Oregon rain, we chanted the words, “Rain, rain, go away; come again some other day. We want to play.” Magically, the rain stopped, and we knew we had power. Desiring to use our newfound magic to good use, we ran upstairs to our shared bedroom and began pillaging through Barbie dresses. We each chose a beautiful dress, placed them on our bed and cast a spell to enlarge them to our sizes. Nothing happened, so we determined we must have to leave the room and reappear at a later time. Sadly, when we reentered the room, those Barbie-size dresses had not grown one inch. Our hopes were dashed.

Haven’t we all wished for wonder working power at some point? Hoping for life size Barbie dresses pales in comparison to being rescued from a crisis or a stinky season in my life. Wouldn’t it be nice if stores carried a magic potion that transported us to life without heartache and trouble? Life rarely happens exactly as we’ve planned it. Even our days are often replete with unplanned events. Just this morning lunch with a friend was moved back an hour and another appointment was cancelled. While this isn’t a catastrophe, many times life’s occurrences are. Tragedies can sideswipe us in the blink of an eye, a moment’s notice.

                These Plan B’s as Pete Wilson calls them in his book titled Plan B, can either happen to us because of someone else’s choices or occur because of our own poor choices. Regardless of the reason, we must decide how we are going to react. Are we going to allow this situation to make us bitter or better? Most likely, these crises have the potential to bring us closer to Jesus, if we allow Him to transform us. The question is, will we let Him have access to our hearts?

                Thinking we’ll travel through life with smooth sailing, following our to-do lists, is as likely as a year without rain in Seattle. I graduated with an English degree, planning to teach secondary students for the rest of my life. I taught for a few years and have been swabbing kitchen floors and doing laundry ever since. I never imagined I’d live anywhere else but the northwest side of the country. What am I doing in Indiana, where Hoosier Hysteria reigns, in a town I never even knew existed before 10 years ago? My plan also didn’t include getting divorced and being a single parent to two small children.

                Many of us dream about a life of ease, with financial comforts, happy marriages and well-behaved kids.  We work hard to fulfill our dreams, our plans, our desires, yet oftentimes neglect to commit those plans to God. Proverbs 16:9 says, “In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps.” I like to plan my course; I just occasionally forget about God in doing so. I assume that God wants what I want for me. Yet, over the years, I’ve learned that He cares more about my character than my comfort.

                It seems like God has allowed me to experience a lot of those character-building field trips. Going through a heart-wrenching divorce was the biggest by a mile. My plan was to stay married forever; divorce was never an option. But, unexpected circumstances caused such calamity that what I thought I’d never consider became a topic of conversation and then a reality. My dream shattered, my heart broken, tears flowing, I clung with dear life to my Savior, my Rescuer, my Protector. Psalm 126:5-6 says, “Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy. He who goes out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with him.” I sowed a lot of seed during that period of time that reaped a harvest of joy years later.

                Satan sought to destroy, derail and distract me with this tragedy, but God planned beauty, blessing and a bright future. I chose to believe in His goodness for me. There isn’t anything that happens to me that He doesn’t know about. A friend of mine once said, “It’s comforting to know that God knows my story. And, whether He allows something to happen or causes it, He will be with me. He must know I can handle it.”

                 Eventually, God restored my dreams of marriage to a godly man who had also been broken by divorce.  How grateful I am that my God can take our plan B’s and bring beauty from the ashes, healing from the heartache, deliverance from destruction.

                “Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:22-23           

When You're Not All-Sufficient

No one would believe I’m a perfectionist by looking at my kitchen counter.

Paper piles of important notices and special offers, graded homework, statements and other items that need attention permeate the landscape like the dandelions multiplying in my yard. Procrastination reigns as I continue to stack paper atop paper until one of two things happens: I'm unable to cook dinner due to lack of counter space or I’m expecting a guest whom I wish to impress with my clean countertops. In any case, I focus on the task of paper sorting and end up purging most of it because deadlines have passed and I missed the party, function or special buy on that nifty item I knew I needed.  If it takes me five or 10 minutes to discard that mess, why do I avoid the process? I’ll tell you why.  As a frustrated perfectionist, if I can’t do it right, I won’t even begin the project.

I know this about myself; my kids know it; my husband knows it. They claim I like things done a certain way…my way!  I’ve attempted to disguise it, but apparently, this trait has leaked out anyway. I suppose they experienced some sort of epiphany like I did recently. I was driving one morning, praying out loud in my typical fashion, bemoaning my poor spiritual influence as a parent. “I’m not a good enough role model for my kids. I’m missing teaching moments. I should create more spiritual moments. I’m not all sufficient.”  The moment I breathed that last sentence, God switched the light on inside my brain. Annette, you’re not supposed to be all-sufficient. I’m the All-Sufficient One. Oh yeah. Sigh. Relief. What in the world have I been doing, trying to take God’s place?  Trying to be everything for my kids? I’ve put so much pressure on myself for their spiritual well-being that I’ve neglected to trust God with my failings, my utter lack, my incapability to be their All.  

I want God to be their Everything. He is the only One capable of being present at all times, in all ways, in all situations. He has all the answers; I don’t. Why am I trying to fill God’s slot in their lives? Is it the perfectionist in me that seeks my will for their lives? Doesn’t God know them better than I do since He created them?  My heart knows that, but I sure don’t parent that way. Most of the time, I assume I know best and spend time instructing God on the matter. I want to clue Him in on the plan I’ve concocted for their spiritual growth.

My plan doesn’t include pain, suffering or hardship. It includes nonrebellious living, no major sins and following God wholeheartedly. This would be laughable except that I really have prayed and hoped God would follow my will. Praying the alternative is not much fun…His will for them, not mine. I desire that my kids take the high road instead of the hard road. Taking the path of sin and moving away from God for years is not the life I would choose for them. Suffering through relationship pain, physical pain or emotional pain is not on my top ten list of things for them to experience.

I ponder my own road…salvation, growth, immaturity, love, marriage, hurt, heartbreak, suffering, pain, divorce, second chance, love, marriage, growth, maturity…How can I exempt my children from the ups and downs of life and their choices, when I myself faced pain and loss? That hurt and heartbreak forged my growth in Jesus and caused me to lean and trust in His sufficiency. I hope my story will lead them to Christ without having to experience willful living. But, maybe their story will include things I don’t wish for them in a million years. God alone knows what each of my children will experience in order to follow Him with their entire hearts. Still, I’m hesitant to pray His will for them because of the fear of the unknown. When Jesus prayed for God’s will, it cost His life.

This is the point in which my all-sufficiency takes over. Perhaps I can rig my own plan for their lives, one that doesn’t cost them anything. I recall that I’ve been attempting that for years now and keep failing. Even with my perfectionistic tendencies, I can’t be a perfect enough parent, role model, teacher. My children will make mistakes, choose poorly, experience pain, endure hardship, and I must trust and point them to the All-Sufficient One. His plan is perfect; His will be done…  

God's Wings

"How priceless is your unfailing love!

Both high and low among men find refuge

in the shadow of your wings."  (Psalm 36:7, NIV)

Recently, I've contemplated this idea of finding refuge in God's wings.  The Bible is replete with imagery involving eagles' wings, especially in Psalms.  Yet, my attention was drawn to this through a verse in Ruth.  Boaz tells Ruth, "May the Lord repay you for what you have done. May you be richly rewarded by the LORD, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge." (Ruth 2:12, NIV) Ruth, a Moabitess, has left her homeland and forsaken her gods to pledge allegience to Naomi and her God.  She has abandoned any family in Moab and adopted new family in Bethlehem.  She is now seeking shelter in God's arms. 

I thought about this when I helped dress my sleepy 10-year-old earlier this week.  Every once in awhile, her eyes won't open in the morning, so I pick up one body part at a time and dress her.  Then, I hoist her arms around my neck while she wraps her legs around my body, and I carry her small frame into the kitchen where she eats her Reese's Puffs breakfast of champions. The eagle's wings image popped into my brain.  Just as she found refuge in my arms, so I nestle in my Father's arms. She didn't want to face the day and needed me to give her some extra love. Perhaps my willingness to give her additional affection, allowing her to curl up in my arms gave her the boost she needed.

Mornings don't always materialize in this manner.  Typically, I begin by sweetly and gently cajoling my daughter out of bed, sometimes with a beautiful morning song.  When that doesn't move her, I resort to a firm, "Time to get up now.  Let's go." After that, the threats begin with the ugly mom voice.  "If you don't get moving, you'll lose dessert for 5 years and go to bed early until you're 16."  However, this morning was different.  And, I thought about God's arms as I wrapped my arms wholly around this little trusting person.  Just like what I do with God, only He doesn't ever bark at me when I don't get up quickly enough. 

Unfortunately, the day will arrive when my daughter will grow too large for me to wrap her up completely in my arms.  But, God's arms are never too small. The wingspan of eagles' wings is 7 feet, almost 1 1/2 times my 5'4" body. I don't know what size Ruth was, but I do know that she found refuge in the shadow of God's wings. She left her country, her dead idols and a bleak future in Moab.  While grieving the loss of her husband, she travelled to a new country with her mother-in-law of all people for the prospect of an uncertain future with a God she barely knew.  She gave God her grief, and He gave her hope.  

In the 35 years that I've been a Christ-follower, I've lost track of how many occasions I've buried myself in God's arms.  God has sheltered me, held me, loved me through my teens, in the midst of marriage hardships, through financial challenges, in the middle of raising children.  He is the One in whom I've taken refuge over and over again.  Even more than I love to cuddle with, protect and shield my little girl when she can barely open her eyes to face the day, He desires to shelter me from the storms this life brings. He hopes that I'll seek refuge in Him rather than a friend, food or finances.  Maybe He even longs for me to be more like Ruth, the foreigner, the former idol-worshiper.    

Father, help me to find my shelter in you, just like Ruth did.  She didn't cling to her past, but looked forward to a hopeful future.  She took a risk and trusted You. She moved forward and didn't let fear hold her back.  No matter what happens in my future, I pray that I would continue to seek refuge in You who cover me with Your wings.