When my heart is broken
And I am feeling sad
When change arrives
And farewells being cried
At times like these
I’ll close my eyes
And think on You
Your love will help me through
When my heart is broken
And I am feeling sad
When change arrives
And farewells being cried
At times like these
I’ll close my eyes
And think on You
Your love will help me through
This morning I thought about a spiritual ‘place of safety’. A place of prayer and quietness where we can connect with our Creator and know that we are loved. How natural experiences can leave us with such a void inside that there is nowhere to go, but onto our knees to connect with our Lord. I would like to share something very personal that happened today. The term was so strongly pressed on my heart, I was trying to find references of safety in my morning study, and thinking of a poem I wrote a year ago titled the same ‘Place of Safety’. I know that I am believing in a living God when we were invited to sing a hymn this afternoon and right there in the first verse were the exact words ‘place of safety’ mentioned. Where to find a place of safety when hiding from storms so near? This was after I wrote my previous post Self-Sabotage. It was mentioned to me many years ago – we may not like to invite experiences to cross our path, but always be thankful for whatever may bring one to a place of prayer. A place of prayer and safety.
‘Is the master at the helm?
Hear him whisper, peace be still’
Facing the enemy
I fear my foe
Feeling my weakness
I pray for help
Forgetting myself
I yield my all
One step forward
To victory I go
One step forward
To heaven, to home
Where is my place in the world?
Am I resigned to the shadows
To live as quietly as I possibly can
Watching those in the sun
While I observe from afar
Is it my place to abide
To make peace with the discontent
The passion that brews and causes me to ache
To long for the force to sweep me off my feet
Into whirlwinds of unknown worlds
Is it my place to quieten
The voices that rage within my heart
And wave them away with the brush
Of my calloused, nail-bitten hands
Speaking myself into a happiness I do not feel
Is it my place to be less than I ever dreamed
To excuse every failure I have made
And be content with what I have
So that nothing is lost but then
Everything is lost anyway
Is it my place to see the blue sky above
And know that the power that imagined creation into being
Is the same power that created me
And to feel one with the land, and the earth and the sea and the sky
Breathing in the same air as the living beings surrounding me
Is it my place to kneel before my Lord
And pray from the very core of my soul
I have not the answer to where my place is in the world
Or what I should be achieving, or doing, or striving for
But I yield my heart and the life that I am
That I can be of use to Thee
In small ways or great –
Now and forever
Not my will, Lord
But thine be done