It’s number 5 that really gets me; I try so hard to be perfect, so to break the porcelain veneer is like dropping grandma’s ancient heirloom. I feel crushed. I feel caught. I feel like someone might want to yell in my face.
Yet, when my son started pointing fingers at everyone else but himself. When he couldn’t admit doing things wrong. . . well, all fingers pointed back at me. I can’t blame on him, what he learns from me. He’s really just a reflection of the environment that I create for him.
I declared it was high-time I start to change something – about me. And, sooner rather than later. It is far easier to say you want to change than it ever is to actually do it.
I still tried. I noticed when I got that little prick of anxiety in my heart and admitted why: I pushed a little too hard on my husband to get my way. I paid attention to the small sense of guilt I previously ignored and acknowledged my wrong: I brought up a sensitive topic at the worst time. I looked at my child’s face when I chided with too much force and reacted: I am sorry.
Nope. And, I wasn’t perfect. Sometimes, my pride inhibited my humility. Pride made me take an hour, where humility would have shown up right away. But, I am learning: it is a learning process.
Sometimes, the act of being honest with yourself is the first act. You have to cheer yourself on for this. I am doing this. YAY!
Maybe you need to join me? Have you built up defenses so high even you can’t see over them to the truth? Have you found that you don’t ever want to be wrong.
This verse has been such an encouragement to me: “Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time.” (1 Pet. 5:6)
I used to think an apology meant I needed to go dwell in a dumpster or something. Now I see an apology is a welcome by God to a higher place with him. It is my letting go so that I can welcome his glory and peace in. When I do this, I find my way back to his heart more easily.
We had been going over the same set of details for days.
Each sit-down, hour-long discussion felt like we were walking around in two separate circles.
I could see how he was wrong, but he couldn’t.
He could see how I was wrong, but I couldn’t.
Add in miscommunications, assumptions, and misunderstandings, and there you have our reasons for walking in lonely circles of our own making.
I wouldn’t say we were angry with each other, but we both felt misunderstood. We were waiting for the other person to see our own point of view.
It took a few days before the light turned on and we joined hands and walked together again. In the light, I read through my journal and saw some things I hadn’t realized before. I saw my own sin and the resulting sadness.
I had been deceived.
We can be so deceived by sin, and fail to see it. Or admit it. Or turn from it. Sometimes, we don’t really want to see where we are wrong. It would feel better if only they were wrong.
When were you last deceived by sin?
Every one of us chooses to sin at times, and others, we fall into sin. We are works in process. Sometimes, we fall and refuse to get back up for a while. Or we make a huge mess and track it everywhere, and then find remnants in hidden corners long after we’ve come clean.
Sin sticks like mud sometimes. And it’s messy. It can be lonely and make us feel trapped.
I pray with the psalmist, Lord, keep your servant from willful sins; may they not rule over me. (Psalm 19:13) And I remember His unending love.
He freed us from our sins, so they will not rule over us.
We are being transformed, and He’s not finished with us yet.
So Child of God, you may fall into sin, but you are not going to dwell there.
Jesus changed everything when He made a Way for us to be near God. He paid the penalty for all of our sin–and set us free from our slavery to sin. When we first trusted in Him, He planted love deep in our hearts, for Him and others. His new law of love.
“I will put my laws in their minds and write them on their hearts.
I will be their God, and they will be my people.” Hebrews 8:10b
You see, the old covenant failed because of the people’s unfaithfulness. But the new covenant cannot fail. The new covenant is based on what God did and does and will do.
The Lord who frees captives will continue to rescue us–every time we call to Him–out of any pit where we’ve fallen.
He is our God, and we are His people.
So we may fall, but we will not stay down.
Angela Parlin is a wife and mom to 3 rowdy boys and 1 sweet girl. In addition to spending time with friends and family, she loves to read and write, spend days at the beach, watch romantic comedies, and organize closets. But most of all, she loves Jesus and writes to call attention to the beauty of life in Christ, even when that life collaborates with chaos. Join her at www.angelaparlin.com, So Much Beauty In All This Chaos.
Pots and pans where flung everywhere. I didn’t really know what I was doing, except I knew dinner needed to get on that table, before the two screaming heads even more flipped a lid. Move faster, Kelly.
I tried to maneuver around the crumbs and grease that were splattered everywhere. I tried to manage a deep conversation with my husband while pulling the salmon out of the oven. I threw it on the stove, checked the hardness of the fish (yep…rock-solid, alright) and then proceeded to grabb the handle with my bare hand….Yeee-oww!!!!
I burnt the living-cells right off my palm of my hand.
I’ve decided, in manic-mode, I do dumb things.
I guess you could say this is a theme in my life.
Manic-mode at work: I’d rush so fast, I’d send the “I am so frustrated at my boss” email not to my co-worker two cubes over, but directly to him.
Manic-mode in the car: I pulled out so fast out of school, I crush metal like it’s nobody’s business. Car’s totaled.
Manic-mode with kids: I fear someone is going to fall in the bathroom, so I lean over to shut the door with a baby in hand and her toe gets slammed. It busts wide open. Baby gets stitches at the ER.
My heart longs for manic-mode, sometimes. I don’t know what is wrong with me? It’s like somehow I think I am more productive there, like the hot-flashes of anxiety are going to produce something, like more will get done and somehow I’ll end up being recognized as the shining star mom of the universe. It never happens.
What is it producing? Burnt hands. Angry bosses. Ruined cars. Babies with stitches. Internal frustration. Residual guilt. Kitchens left half cleaned up because I’m either dealing with the likes of insurance agencies, ER rooms or burn marks. FAIL.
What is manic-mode producing in your life? Where do you see it show up? Why do you chase it?
I think I believe if I rush, the loud sounds of my life will hush and I’ll make space for peace. Like, I’ll run to the destination real fast and then I’ll have time left over to chill there. To lay down. It doesn’t work that way, I’m learning.
“My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.” Ex. 33:14
To make peace, it works much more like this:
You ask God to be with you through everything.
You trust him to be with you through everything.
You don’t become a marathon sprinter.
You look out for God to be with you through everything.
you still don’t let yourself become a marathon sprinter.
You notice God be with you through everything.
You find some peace, and even some rest, through the process.
Why? Because He’s taking lead. The destination is not your destination, but God is the destination. And, when God is the destination, you’ve arrived.
I walked to the car. Laying on the driveway at my feet was a flower, pulled out by the bulb. My heart dropped. It was disturbing.
Leaning over to pick it up, I tossed it around in my hand, considering how it hadn’t been picked like a normal flower, it hadn’t been cut at it’s stem so it could sprout up next year. Nope. Instead, it was ripped up, its core yanked from the ground. Never again would there be growth, renewal, and hope for this little thing.
The worst thing – ever – happened to this little flower. Hope was gone.
The devil wants to rip us, the same way, right from the bulb out of the hearty soil of God’s love. He wants to cut us, not at our stem, so that we can grow again, but at the core of who we are. He wants to take away our heart that believes we are son or daughter. He wants to remove the mustard seed of faith. He wants to hijack the truth we are saved from our heart. He wants to cripple our ability to ever bloom again.
The farmer sows the word. Some people are like seed along the path, where the word is sown. As soon as they hear it, Satan comes and takes away the word that was sown in them. Mk. 4:14-15
His tactics happen subtly. I don’t know one person who said: I want to become an alcoholic. I want to someday cheat on my spouse. I dream of becoming addicted by drugs. I am looking forward to becoming a shopaholic. I hope to one day fall far, far away from Jesus, never to care much about his ways anymore. His tugs are slow-coming.
Little-by-little, he yanks. Little-by-little, we are removed just a little more from the soil we were planted in. Day-by-day, it happens until, one day – pop! – we’re a plucked bulb from the ground. Faith is gone.
The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. Jo. 10:10
What are we doing, anyway? Are we waiting and watching or are we just going – la, de, da – living as life passes us by?
Just as a predator loves a woman head down, wearing earbuds (how better to grab her) – so does the enemy love when we are distracted by the noise, commotion and the distraction of the world. Snatch!
Friends, be aware. Don’t just go through the motions of a day. Intentionally draw close to God. Come near to God and he will come near to you. (Ja. 4:8)
Don’t just wait for faith to happen. Move into it. Grab it. Consequently, faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through the word about Christ. (Ro. 10:17)
Don’t just be a lukewarm Christian. Let God set you on fire. Go out. So, because you are lukewarm–neither hot nor cold–I am about to spit you out of my mouth. (Rev. 3:16)
Don’t sit around and live a distracted life. Stay focused. It matters. Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we’re in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed – that exhilarating finish in and with God… (Heb. 12:2 MSG)
The days are short. The weeks are numbered. The mission is huge. The stakes are high. God is what matters.
I replanted that bulb, by the way. That is what God does. He replants us, no matter where we’ve been ripped up in life. He grows us again. And, we show up even more beautiful.
Today, I am delighted to welcome Mary Carver to Purposeful Faith. I love her heart and her unique ability to link faith with the Gilmore Girls! You will love her unique perspective below…
“I’m gonna have to quit drinking coffee, and I love coffee!”
– Rory, The Perfect Dress (Season 6, Episode 11)
Gilmore Girls – or television in general – might not be the first place you’d look for inspiration or encouragement in your faith, but I’ve found it there. And on top of a list of books to add to my to-read pile and a hankering for Pop Tarts, my favorite TV show has taught me a thing or two about fear and faith.
You know things are bad when a Gilmore girl is willing to give up coffee. But that’s exactly what Lorelai and Rory, the main characters in the show, do when they’re trying to avoid someone who’s hurt them. I lost count of how many times Lorelai boycotted Luke’s diner after the two of them had argued, and Rory learned from her mom so avoiding her boyfriend Logan (and their mutually loved coffee kiosk) was an obvious choice after a break-up.
Jonah tried ignoring his problems – and God, and that landed him in the belly of a giant fish. Thankfully, my fear has never sent me there, but avoiding people to escape confrontation or further pain has never served me well. Once I missed the baby shower for one of my dear friends because I was too afraid of interacting with the hostess, a former friend of mine who had hurt me deeply. The result wasn’t a seafood sauna, but it was a whole lot of disappointment and regret.
When I thought about this – avoiding hard things or difficult people out of fear – I realized that I didn’t need to rack my brain for more personal examples. I simply needed to rewind to the day I began writing my devotional last fall.
After getting one daughter off to school and the other to the babysitter, I opened a new document and began to … think of all the reasons I couldn’t write yet. I got up and washed some dishes, then moved upstairs to clean my bathroom sink. As long-time hater of all things housework, I was obviously procrastinating this project I was supposedly so excited to begin.
I shouldn’t have been surprised (although procrastination via cleaning is a new variation on a common theme). Though I call myself a writer, I actually find writing a terrifying act of vulnerability and risk. So typical, this tortured writer’s insecurity. And also? So similar to what our Gilmore friends did every time they avoided they people they loved but also feared.
Running away and avoiding people and places and projects is messy. It’s foolish. And it inevitably hurts us much more than it protects us. Even without the siren call of coffee, that is enough for me to remember God’s promises to be with us when we face our fears. We don’t have to be afraid, because the Creator of the universe is for us and with us.
What – or who – are you avoiding today? Do you think God will abandon you now? No! He will never leave you or forsake you. Today I challenge you – and me – to take one step of faith, make one move of bravery. Let’s stop hiding from our fears and begin to face them, knowing God is with us every step of the way. And, for the love of Gilmores, don’t give up your coffee!
“For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.”
I’m delighted Patricia Holbrook is hosting the linkup today! Patricia is faithful in her calling. She is honest and transparent. She has a story that will meet your heart in its dry places.
Leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of Patricia’s book, 12 Inches!
The Lord said to Gideon, “I will deliver you with the 300 men who lapped and will give the Midianites into your hands; so let all the other people go, each man to his home.” Judges 7:7
It was Friday night. I absently stared at the TV, thinking about how lonely I felt. Looking through my phone book, I knew that the options were not good. Friends who would be available on a Friday night would quickly offer me a tour back into my life before Christ… Places I knew not to visit anymore.
My new Christian friends were all busy with their husbands and family. It was me, my TV… and… my Bible. I glanced down and picked it up.
A new Christian, I had heard that Jesus was all I needed, but was unsure of how to let Him fill the void.
I surrendered my life to Christ only months before, and experienced unprecedented joy and peace. I spent the following weeks and months on a spiritual high, attending a new Christian discipleship class, prayer meetings and various church functions.
Yes, I made several new friends, but they were, well… new. And most of them were married, anyway. Loneliness filled my heart on the weekends. That particular weekend was the hardest of all.
As I held my Bible, tears streamed down my face. One of my best friends of eight years had turned her back on me.
Betrayal. Pain. Confusion.
The last drop in the bucket.
“Jesus, I thought you would fill my life, not empty it!” I cried out.
It was there, lying on my couch, that I heard His voice, whispering in my heart for the first time.
“I am preparing the soil for new sowing. For a new harvest.”
It was then that I saw it. I had a vision. As in a dream, I saw a large, bare field. The soil showed places where trees once stood. It was desolate-looking. Ugly, even.
Then I saw seeds coming down from Heaven, falling inside each hole on the ground. And finally, I saw the same field, green and full of beautiful, tall trees.
“Behold, I am making all things new,” I heard.
Twenty Years have gone by since that day…
And I behold the harvest.
I can close my eyes and see the faces.
My husband, our two daughters and wonderful, faithful friends throughout the years, planted in the field of my life. Besides one very best friend from my youth and my immediate family, they are all new.
They all have been planted by Yahweh’s faithful hands. And they have flourished and yielded fruits of joy, peace, love, patience… true friendship. True Love.
I stand amazed.
The vision was hard to believe at the time when loneliness filled my days. When God removed what I thought was true love… and those whom I considered real friends.
He plucked them all, one by one, and left me wondering whether I’d ever feel loved again.
But before He planted a new harvest in my life, He had to teach me to make Jesus my all in all. He wanted to become my very best friend.
Instead of giving in to the feelings of loneliness and depression, I sought His face.
I made the Bible my greatest companion. I woke up in the middle of the night to talk to my Savior and started serving Him at church. And before I realized it, He started planting beautiful new seeds into my life.
God showed me that, just as He gave Gideon victory over mighty enemies with a small army of faithful servants, His children don’t need 10,000 soldiers to win life’s battles.
When God is in control, He weeds out the unfaithful, and fills in the void in our lives with the 300 faithful few.
Gideon was afraid of not having enough. He couldn’t see how he would defeat his powerful enemy with such a small army.
You may not see how your life can continue without a particular person. Or how you can give up your old friends and still have joy. I challenge you to trust Him. Trust that He is weeding out the unfaithful, cleaning out the soil, preparing it to yield a new harvest.
All He needs is your heart. Your surrendered trust.
I promise that one day you’ll stand amazed, as you contemplate the lush green fields that Yahweh will plant on your current bare land. As you give yourself to Him, believe me: He will give it all back to you.
Pressed down, shaken together and running over.
Because that is the kind of Friend He is.
Just trust His pruning. Trust His plucking. He only cuts out what doesn’t belong, anyway.
*This blog post is an excerpt from Patricia’s Book: Twelve Inches: Bridging the gap between what you know about God and how you feel.”
***Comment for a chance to win a copy of the book! Also, share Patricia’s words on social media!
Patricia Holbrook is the President of Soaring with Him Ministries, author, columnist, blogger, wife and mom. Her passion is to encourage her audience to “soar above life’s circumstances” by the power of God’s Word and the Holy Spirit’s guidance. She writes about making beauty out of brokenness, trusting God in the dark, the blessings of obedience and her love for the Savior.
Among other places, you can find her writing weekly on her
Our foster-love has entered into the broad world of the wall-eyed fit.
We have epoxy-stained concrete floors in our house. It only took a couple times for her to rethink throwing her entire body weight onto the floor and screaming her head off.
It hurts, so the effectiveness of showing her frustration was overruled by the knot on her noggin.
Now, when she is frustrated she gently sits, then lies blithely on the floor… and then proceeds to throw a fit.
We cannot help but giggle as the drama of her tantrum is overridden by her cautious technique of getting to the pinnacle of the spectacle.
Often we wonder, as long as it took her to get prostrate had she forgotten what she was mad about?
And this may seem silly but recently I was upset with God. I felt He had pulled the rug out from under me. I found myself flat on my back, hurt and angry that He hadn’t been there to stop the insanity train from leaving the station.
For the better part of two days, I ignored my habitual instinct to “pray without ceasing.” I found myself audibly saying, “I am not ready to talk to you about this…”
I went so far as to get out some stationery and pen to write out my complaint. With Thesaurus in hand and my gift for the written word, I would tell God exactly how I felt about the current downward spiral.
Yet the longer I postponed the tantrum, the more I worked through the calamity, the more my vision cleared… and all of the sudden I had new clarity.
He didn’t do this to me.
There were natural consequences for our current trial. He was not dishing out troubles, yes He allowed them and then walked with us through them, but He was not in the business of destroying us.
When did I first believe Him to be cruel I do not know?
But I am rejoicing in the new-found message of GRACE.
Freedom in Jesus wasn’t something He promised just to hear Himself talk.
If we are free… then we are free indeed.
How I love falling into His arms.
How I need Him to catch me and show me it is all okay.
He makes all things new. And all things work together for good for those who love Him. In the midst of a trial, I was refreshed and renewed that He was for me.
He is for my marriage.
He is for my children.
He is for my good will.
Who is this God who we encourage others to adore? Is the walk of salvation a trick manifested just to get others to fall in line? Or is this the real deal?
Pray, I say to you He is so real… so dear and wise.
In my folly, I have questioned Him. In the explicit moments, He has welcomed me, without judgment or harshness, and allowed me to lie at His feet and worship.
What God is this that shows such mercy and love?
My God… my love and life’s breath. He will never leave me or forsake me.
He is for me and He is with me, affording mercy and grace… even unto the carefully executed wall-eyed fit.
Matthew10:16(NASB)”Behold, I send you out as sheep in the midst of wolves; so be shrewd as serpents and innocent as doves.”
Jami Amerine is a wife, and mother to anywhere from 6-8 children. Jami and her husband Justin are active foster parents and advocates for foster care and adoption. Jami’s Sacred Ground Sticky Floors is fun, inspirational, and filled with utter lunacy with a dash of hope. Jami holds a degree in Family and Consumer Sciences (yes Home Ec.) and can cook you just about anything, but don’t ask her to sew. She also holds a Masters Degree in Education, Counseling, and Human Development. Her blog includes topics on marriage, children, babies, toddlers, learning disabilities, tweens, teens, college kids, adoption, foster care, Jesus, homeschooling, unschooling, dieting, not dieting, dieting again, chronic illness, stupid people, food allergies, and all things real life. You can find her blog at Sacred Ground Sticky Floors, follow her onFacebook or Twitter.
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My husband and I decided, after I returned to the car from grabbing coffee inside a busy supermarket, the answer to this question is the difference between peace and panic.
We pondered this thought because he’d literally just placed himself in a position of worry. You see, while I was inside procuring two grande Americano’s, he could have chosen to wait in a peaceful low-stress parking spot, however he didn’t. Instead, he drove his car right up to the front lane and waited right where all the traffic was. Sure, he pulled to the side and put on his hazard lights, but, by doing this, he put centered himself in a lane of stress, worry and anxiety.
The whole time he fretted: I don’t want to be in anyone’s way. I don’t want to cause any issues. I don’t want to annoy people.
In his haste to be efficient, he had wasted precious moments of peace. How often do we do the same thing? How often do we place ourself – front and center – right into a position of worry?
Recently, I’ve been waking up, putting the final touches on my blog post and sending it out. Usually, no more than 1 minute after I press send on the blog post – a kid wakes up. Then, I stress.
Because of my distraction, I missed connection with God. I was rushed. I’m angry at myself.
Day-in and day-out, though, I do the same thing.
Why am I putting myself in a position of worry?
Why am I repeatedly subjecting myself to the same outcome?
I can make a change. I can decide to take 10 extra minutes at night to do what the morning is stealing away from God. I can choose to place myself, not in the center of worry, but in a place of peace. You can too.
Creating a place of peace is:
Considering what to reschedule to make more time for your kids.
Relaxing your mind in prayer instead of regurgitating your ongoing mistakes.
Choosing to speak less rather than speaking in a way that hurts a loved one.
Deciding to stop ruminating on the past, so you can remain present in the moment.
Eating breakfast in the morning, so you don’t turn into a ball of anxiety by 11:30.
Letting people handle own their problems, rather than feeling you have to fix them all.
Asking God to handle what you can’t.
Halting your place of worry, by taking pro-active steps to figure out a new path to peace.
What might need changing so you can park your mind in a place of peace?
Just yesterday, I met up with a friend. She’s stuck in a foreign prison. She can’t find her way out. Jesus saved her for heaven, but on earth, she nearly lives daily in hell. Depression, despair and dejection have claimed her.
When I got home, she was all I could think about. The way her tears broke down her face, the way her heart was spread out on the table and the way it seemed there was no way out.
I wish I had been there for her more.
We live is in a world of hurt; there is no denying that. And, where I sit is in a chair, angry, I can’t fix things. I can’t rework their lives. I can’t restructure the story or rewind the tape. Oh, how badly I want to get up like a super-genie with blonde hair, an explosive attitude, with a good sprinkle of Jesus, and just swipe away the pain, as if I’m sending them back to those smiling pictures of old. I want them to go – back there.
But, I can’t swipe it all away. I can’t swear it away. I can’t superwoman it away either.
Here pain stands.
And so do I.
What will I do this time?
What will you?
Because the pain of the world isn’t going anywhere. And neither are needy people. Here we all are. Look left, you’ll see her – in the wheelchair. Look right, you’ll remember, yes, that person, who lost their spunky 30-year old spouse. Look across the street, you’ll see him, the dad with tired eyes and a drug addict child.
See what you try not to see, today.
They walk everywhere. I guess the real question is, what will we do? Will we continue on with our day or will we step in to a new way?
10 Ways to Be There For Someone Going through a Hard Time
Realize you are just as needy. Think you don’t have problems? Think again. Meet your neediness first.
Soften your heart. Let your covering of to-do’s fall to the ground. Let judgements go. See afresh.
Smile. Smile at yourself because today, you are choosing to go a new way. Who you abandoned in the past, is forgiven by Christ Jesus.
Ask God for His eyes to see.
Recognize. What you think needs fixing, God may think is down-right astonishing when seen from the angle of his great plan.
Don’t be a Mrs. or Mr. Fix it or Madam Know-it-all. Refuse to allow pride to break the stride of God’s perfect love and timing.
Be. Be in the moment with your own feelings and emotions. Listen from this place and love in that space.
Pray with all your heart, then act as the Holy Spirit leads.
Expect the Lord to be faithful through your prayers. Even more, expect him to grow you along the way.
Enjoy. Enjoy what the Lord is doing, even if it looks nothing like you thought.
A weird thing happens as you love, you find out God is loving you. He gives back what you are giving and he gives out what the other person’s soul most quenches. All of a sudden, what happens is you – and them – are unified. It is not about pity, judgement or charity, it is about two souls in need, hungering and seeking for more. Drawing strength, building hope and seeking rescue. It is a beautiful thing. It is God in action. It is – lives – coming alive. And – it is never too late to find.
I snapped off the news. Nothing there but terrorism and guns. Who needs all that?!
My heart felt tired, unsure, but, all the same, I figured I should get with God. Maybe try to muster the strength to get up and fill my mind with excellence and good report.
“I should watch something uplifting.”
Unable to discern what, I just stayed put on the couch. Immobile. In tiredness. In a body unable to even gain the strength to end the day’s war under the covers of “tomorrow’s going to be better.”
I just lay there.
“God, why am I missing you lately? Why do you seem far?”
I got the sense of God whispering back to me, “Kelly, I am not far, you are.”
I used to spend my days looking for God, now I spend my days looking at how I am messing up.
I used to offer thanks, now I offer myself solutions for how I can improve.
I used to consider momentary lessons, now I consider how God really needs to teach me a lesson.
I used to just delight with letting God be, now I pressure him to show up.
I used to let fears fly out the window, now I roll it up.
I press my eyes tighter and ask, “What happened God?”
I hear nothing. Figures.
“You’re missing the moment where I am, because you fear the moments where you are.”
Let in love.
Land in my arms.
Let me carry you.
Leave behind demands.
My closed eyes – relax. God is inviting my mind to travel – with him. No demands. No requirements. No facades. No prerequisites. No achievements. No guilt. No shame required.
He wants my attention in the moment. So, without distraction, I can see him in the moment.
I open my eyes.
And then I see. God brings clarity: He loves me. He died for me. His light is always pursuing me.
My presence shall go with you, and I will give you rest. Ex. 33:14