Now, one would think, after saying that, that I went straight to Jesus. Well, yes and no. I prayed over certain things, but I went looking elsewhere for the comfort I was longing for (and still am longing for)...as you can read, it didn't happen...finding comfort, that is...
I wrote the following many months before. I was in a position where this concept of being safe was weighing heavily upon me and after this week past, the words I started to write below, come to mind.
Safe....what does it mean to be safe to you? When I think about safety, it goes beyond the physical and includes the emotional and the spiritual. - I am a physically strong woman...mostly genetics, and because of my workout regimen. Growing up, I was surrounded by strong, muscular uncles, and aunts that could hold their own (my mom is the eldest of 9 siblings - 5 girls and 4 boys). My mom's father, who I called 'Poppa' was, also, a physically strong man. I always felt safe in my Poppa's arms. He passed away November 28th, 1994 - I was there...I cried then...and I still cry on occasion when I want to feel safe in his strong arms again when my world feels unsafe. You see, my Poppa was about the only man I have ever felt unconditionally safe with; I felt protected in his presence. And, even though my Poppa was not an overtly emotional man, even my emotional distress was calmed by his smile or a word of acknowledgement.
As I was reminiscing about my Poppa and the safety in strength and emotion he provided for me, my heart took a turn to the topic of spiritual safety. I know Poppa believed in God, but I do not know much about what he believed about God...how much he trusted God. In the past few months, I have encountered people who are having trouble trusting God to work in their relationships, their finances, their children's safety/salvation. They question whether or not they can trust God with what they hold most dear to them.
There have been times when I, too, have doubted God. I did not feel I could trust Him with my problems, my concerns, my wants. I did not feel safe. I wanted someone to come around me, wrap me in their arms and tell me with full confidence that everything would be okay. I wanted the reality of a person I respected and cared for to be present with me in that moment. I wanted their gentle, affirming touch. I wanted them to speak the words that my heart desired to hear..."You are safe. I care. I will not let you get hurt. Everything is going to work out."
I was in essence, questioning what I believed about God. I did not believe God could provide for me the security I felt I needed. Do you see the theme in what I desired? Gentle touch, gentle words...to me that was what I considered safety, security. What I missed was the harm that was avoided - the hand of God that kept me spiritually safe. I could not see beyond the physical and emotional...
When I look back on what I wrote, I still see the struggle of what I face today. I am not "too feminist" (...at all) to admit that I desire to be protected...protected by a man. But there are times when there is not a man around who could provide the protection, the security, and the comfort I need...except Jesus.