Michele Huey's Blog: God, Me, and a Cup of Tea, page 26

Dealing with Uncertainty

Read and reflect on Romans 8:26–39.

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. –Lamentations 3:22–23 ESV

I keep in touch with a number of high school classmates on Facebook. One of them recently posted his thoughts on the uncertainty of the times:

“You can’t leave the house for any reason, but if you have to, you can.”

“Stores are closed, except those that are open.”

“Gloves won’t help, but they can still help.”

“The virus has no effect on children except those it affects.”

“You will have many symptoms when you are sick, but you could be sick without symptoms, or have symptoms without being sick.”

Confused? I think we all are. Even the experts. While they’re trying to understand COVID-19, it seems this virus has a mind of its own and outwits them at almost every turn.

The only certainty these days, it seems, is uncertainty.

But despite all the ambiguity and uncertainty, there are things of which we can we certain.

I don’t know about you, but faith gives me certainty amid the uncertainty because it gives me focus. And I choose to focus on God:

First, I believe GOD IS IN CONTROL, and He knows what He’s doing. I don’t believe He sent the virus, but He’s using it to draw people to faith—saving faith and deeper faith. I believe He has a plan and purpose for everything, and will work all things together for good (Jeremiah 29:11, Romans 8:28). Circumstances may be out of our control, but they are never out of God’s.

Second, I believe GOD IS FAITHFUL. He always does what He says He will do. You can trust Him completely. He is a promise maker and a promise keeper. The Bible is full of His promises. I recently started a Promise Journal in which I write the promises I find in God’s Word. I choose to focus on the faithfulness of God, not the numbers, the shortages, or the disease. Because I’ve experienced God’s faithfulness in the past, I can trust Him in the present and for my future.

Finally, I believe GOD SEES ME, HEARS ME, AND LOVES ME. That’s why, in times of need, I can go boldly, not timidly, to His throne of grace (Hebrews 4:16). And if that old enemy, doubt, comes sneaking around and tries to mess with my mind and heart, I whip out the sword of Psalm 139 (and other verses) and wield it. The Word of God is active and powerful, sharper than any double-edged sword (Hebrews 4:12). Resist doubt and it will flee (James 4:7).

Despite the uncertainty of these days, I can be certain of God’s sovereignty, faithfulness, and love.

And so can you.

Almighty God, thank You for the certainty You give me during these uncertain times. Thank You that I can cling to Your Word and have peace amid the pandemic. Amen.

EXTRA TEA: Job 38–41; 42:1–6;

Isaiah 55:8–11; 1 Thessalonians 5:24; Philippians 4:4–8; Isaiah 49:15–16; Zephaniah 3:17

© 2020 Michele Huey. All rights reserved. Used with permission. 

First Corinthians 13 for Mothers

[image error]Photo by Elly Fairytale from Pexels

 

Though I may speak the jargon of professors, doctors, and ministers, if I can’t speak so that my own children understand me, then all I do is make educated noise.

Even if I was known as a scholar or a person with mountain-moving faith, unless my children could truly say, “Mommy loves me!”, then I am nothing.

And although I save Campbell’s labels for missions, distribute food boxes to the needy, make a dish for a funeral dinner, give used clothing to the local homeless shelter; even though I carry a signed organ donor card, if I don’t lovingly look to the needs of my own children, all other good works will profit me nothing.

I need to be patient with their immature thinking, stupid mistakes, and know-it-all attitudes; and show kindness in the face of whining, arguing, and pouting. I need to love them as they are, not as I expect them to be. I cannot envy the parent whose child is a better scholar, musician, or athlete than I perceive my child to be. Yet neither should I vaunt my own child’s successes, for to do so would put the burden of proof on my child, who will strive to live up to my sometimes unrealistic expectations, and perhaps never feel good enough.

I should not be rude to my children, even in my own home, where I long to let my hair down, not snap at them when I’m feeling tired or pressured. I need to give them the same respect I give others and be considerate of their feelings, their privacy, their possessions, and even (shudder) their rooms!

I should not keep a tally of my children’s wrongs, and then triumphantly flourish it at a time when it’s convenient for me. To gently show them when and why they are wrong is more effective than harsh punishment that doesn’t fit the crime and serves only to crush their spirits. Insisting my way is the only way will stiffen their resistance, but teaching them right from wrong by example and praying for discernment may someday lead to rejoicing when my children follow the truth.

With God’s help I will never give up believing in them, knowing that He who created them has a wonderful plan for their lives and will complete what He started. Even when they respond to the pull of the world, I will rest on the promise that God’s Word never returns void. They cannot stray so far that my love and prayers cannot follow.

Genuine love outlasts parental sermons that they quickly forget. Even if I was able to understand insurance policies and all the legalese in which they are written, what good would it do my children if I had no love for them?

I must remember that I, too, was once a child. What wisdom and knowledge I have now were acquired with painful experience.

I must remember that God alone knows their hearts. I see only the outward appearance and assume way too much. Someday God’s plan for each of their lives will unfold like a beautiful flower, and I will understand the trials that seem so hard to get through now.

Faith, hope, and love are the foundation blocks upon which I build my relationship with my children. But the strongest, most enduring block of all is love.

Read and reflect on 1 Corinthians 13.

From God, Me, & a Cup of Tea for the Seasons, © 2018 Michele Huey. All rights reserved. Used with permission.

Goody Two-Shoes – NOT!

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  The fruit of the Spirit is goodness. –Galatians 5:22 NIV

 It wasn’t my mistake, but I’d be the one to pay for it.

When my credit union changed hands, the new company changed the date on which it automatically deducted a $300 loan payment so that the payment would come out two days earlier.

The problem was they never told me. Never sent me a notice, never called me. Nothing.

So when I received a notice that they were docking my checking account $50 for two bounced checks, I called.

“I mailed a check to be deposited two days before the loan payment was due,” I told them. “It was enough to cover the payment.”

That’s when they told me about changing the date. Long story short, they added the $50 back in my account.

I thought that was the end of the matter until I got a bill from the optometrist for $15—the insufficient funds fee from one of the checks my credit union bounced because they took out the loan payment two days early.

I called the optometrist’s office and explained what happened.

“I’m not paying this,” I said firmly. “This wasn’t my fault.”

You know the spiel. The bank charged them the fee, and they were passing it on to me.

I argued with the office manager.

“Somebody has to pay it,” she insisted. “And we aren’t.”

“I shouldn’t have to pay for someone else’s mistake,” I muttered to myself after I hung up.

Then I pictured the Son of God hanging on a cross. He paid for all of our mistakes. All of our rebellion. All of our wrongs. And He never did a thing wrong.

I called the office manager back and apologized.

“I get yelled at everyday,” she told me, her voice softening. “It’s not often someone calls back and apologizes.”

I thought about calling the credit union or the bank involved and arguing my case with them, but decided it would be easier to pay the $15 than to run headfirst into the concrete wall of corporate policy. My blood pressure is high enough.

“To be good,” reads my Bible dictionary, “is to do what is right. It is to show, by our works, praiseworthy character and moral excellence.”

I’m no goody two-shoes. I fail every day. I get tired of doing the right thing time and time again—only to get slammed, blindsided, taken advantage of, and treated like I’m a nobody.

But that’s why God gave me His Holy Spirit—to help me to do that which I know is right, especially when it’s hard to do.

And sometimes the right thing is to say, “the buck stops here.”

Dear God, forgive me for becoming weary in well-doing. Give me the wisdom to know the right thing to do and the strength and courage to do it. Amen.

Read and reflect on the following Scripture verses:

He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. –Micah 6:8 NIV

For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God has prepared in advance for us to do. Ephesians 2:10 NIV

  And let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers. –Galatians 6:9-10 NIV

From God, Me, & a Cup of Tea, Vol. 3 © 2019 Michele Huey. All rights reserved. Used with permission.

Kindness Is …

Noah reads to Allie in a scene from Nicholas Sparks’ “The Notebook.” 

 

The fruit of the Spirit is … kindness. –Galatians 5:22 NIV

Be kind to one another. –Ephesians 4:32 NIV

“We must be active and earnest in kindness, not merely passive and inoffensive.” – Joy and Strength (p. 7)

In a scene in the movie The Notebook, Allie, who is in the later stages of Alzheimer’s disease, and Noah, whom she no longer remembers as her husband, are chatting in the extended care facility in which they now reside.

Noah recites a quote from a poem they once shared.

“That’s beautiful,” Allie says. “Did you write it?”

Noah smiles softly and answers, “No. Walt Whitman did.”

Allie looks puzzled for a few seconds then says thoughtfully, “Walt Whitman. I think I knew him.”

Noah smiles. “I think you did.”

Now, if that were me, I probably would have launched into a mini-literature lesson. The teacher in me—or the parent—or the perfectionist—just can’t squelch the urge to correct mistakes, to set the record straight.

But Noah doesn’t correct Allie. Setting the record straight isn’t important. Saving her from embarrassment and pain is. Throughout the movie, when Allie asks questions, Noah purposely gives evasive answers.

“On days like these, when her memory is gone, I am vague in my answers because I’ve hurt my wife unintentionally with careless slips of my tongue,” he explains, “and I’m determined not to let it happen again.”

I’ve done that—hurt other people unintentionally with words and deeds that I thought were helpful. It’s not kind, for example, to correct all the typos and errors I see in the church bulletin. Even if no one else sees me scribbling away.

It’s not kind to interrupt my husband’s story because he got a couple of details wrong.

It’s not kind to put my children down in front of others, remind them of past mistakes, make fun of their faults, or make them the butt of a joke.

Kindness is being sensitive to someone’s feelings. It’s helping another person to save face, couching the truth in cushions of love.

Kindness is finding something nice to say about your wife’s appearance when the dress she’s wearing does make her look fat.

Kindness is praising your husband’s attempts at cooking supper and ignoring the overdone meat, the grease splattered three feet in every direction from the stove, and the kitchen that now looks like a disaster area.

Kindness is telling your daughter the floor needed mopped anyway when she puts dishwashing liquid in the dishwasher instead of dishwasher detergent.

Kindness is not calling your son an idiot after he fills up his gas tank with diesel fuel instead of gasoline.

Kindness is baking cookies for that neighbor who’s meaner than a junkyard dog (Romans 15:7).

Kindness is saying something nice about someone who’s not saying nice things about you (Proverbs 19:11).

Kindness is not judging the snippy receptionist in the doctor’s office (Romans 14:13).

Kindness is encouraging that young mother struggling with busy toddlers in the grocery store (1 Thessalonians 5:11).

Kindness is praying for your daughter’s boyfriend even though you think he’s not good enough for her.

You can argue that Noah’s kindness was born of love. True.

But as I thought about kindness, I realized that kindness and love are intertwined. One cannot be divorced from the other.

Perhaps that’s why the word “fruit” in “the fruit of the Spirit” is singular.

Dear God, show me ways to be kind to others today. Amen.

Read and reflect on the Book of Ruth.

From God, Me, & a Cup of Tea, Vol. 3, © 2019 Michele Huey. All rights reserved.

Hangeth Thou in There

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The fruit of the Spirit is . . . patience. –Galatians 5:22 NIV

Do not throw away this confident trust in the Lord, no matter what happens. … Patient endurance is what you need now, so you will continue to do God’s will. Then you will receive all that he has promised. –Hebrews 10:35–36 NLT

“Any time a man takes a stand, there will come a time when he’ll be tested to see how firmly his feet are planted.” –Author unknown

It all began with an email—one of those forwards I usually delete without opening. All my bad luck I can blame on deleting them, because most come with a curse or a guilt trip if I don’t forward it to seven or ten or a hundred friends within seven minutes.

But this one I opened and scanned the contents. Then my eyes stopped. “God, deliver the person reading this right now from debt and debt burdens.”

With a son in college and the escalating cost of living, it was getting harder and harder to keep our heads above water.

The following Sunday (Okay, I forwarded it to seven people, including the person who sent it to me—may the gods of cyberspace be appeased), I noticed in the church bulletin an announcement about a workshop for managing finances. “Get control of your finances. Get out of debt.” I read.

“We’re going,” I told my husband.

After the workshop, we resolved to commit ourselves to getting our finances under control. And we started praying together every morning at 5:30 a.m. before Dean left for work.

At first things seemed to be going smoothly. Two unexpected checks came in that month to help the income meet the outgo. We came up with numerous, creative ways to tighten our belts, streamline and simplify.

Then our son’s car—the one Dean worked on all summer and into which we’d poured hundreds of dollars—broke down. It was like a giant hand was pushing us back under water. For two weeks, Dean tinkered with it, trying to figure out what the problem was. Then he turned it over to an engine repair shop that still couldn’t find the problem after two weeks.

We asked ourselves, “What’s this going to cost?”

My freelance income had all but dried up.

The more I prayed, the more I heard God telling me, over and over and over: Be still. Wait. Be patient.

Waiting is not one of my strong points, and patience is not a virtue I possess in abundance.

But everywhere I turned there it was: on the screen at church as we sang worship songs, on a bowl on a friend’s coffee table, in my devotional readings—Be still. Wait. Be patient.

My journal pages filled up with Scripture that jumped out at me and insights that pierced my mind like a well-aimed arrow. One morning I wrote: “I want this time to be over quickly, learn the lesson, and move on to better things, out of the hole of debt. But God is doing a greater work in us.

“Our marriage relationship is becoming stronger. We’ve become closer as we discuss things and as we pray together every morning. We try to help each other out of the funk we get in when we focus on the mountain and not on the God who’s bigger than the mountain. We’re seeing more of what we have and less of what we don’t have, what we truly need and what we could do without. And God is strengthening the ‘do-without’ so we don’t miss what we’ve eliminated. He’s showing us where we’re weak and helping us to overcome those weaknesses.

“We’re on the road to a better, stronger, more satisfying marriage; a simple, more satisfying lifestyle, and a closer walk with God as we learn to depend on Him and trust Him more and more.

“This process takes time. I should not rush it. God knows what He’s doing.”

Dear God, help me to hang in there. Remind me that what You have in store for us will be worth the wait. Amen.

Read and reflect on James 1:2–4; 5:7–11.

PLEASE NOTE: This was written in 2008 and included in my latest devotional book, God, Me, & a Cup of Tea, Vol. 3. Our son has since been weaned from the wallet, and DH is retired.

From God, Me, & a Cup of Tea, Vol. 3 © 2019 Michele Huey. All right reserved. Used with permission.

The Empty Tomb

“He is not here.” ~Matthew 28:6

Read and reflect on

Matthew 28:1–15
Mark 16:1–13
Luke 24:1–49
John 20:1–18

Did Jesus really rise from the dead?

“Seven Signs of Easter: Proofs of the Resurrection”  by Dr. David Jeremiah

Time in the Tomb

[image error]Photo by Tim Reid from flickr.com

Read and meditate on Matthew 27:57–66.

Stop judging by the way things look. –John 7:24 ERV

 Jesus was dead.

What now?

They’d believed He was the Messiah, the Promised One, the Son of God. Divine. He’d healed the sick, raised the dead, cast out evil spirits, fed crowds of thousands with a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish, walked on water, calmed storms. He was their friend, their teacher, their master, their Lord.

How could this have happened? More important, how could He have let this happen?

His enemies had had the last word. So everyone thought.

Now what would happen to them?

I think about that day between Jesus’ death and His resurrection.

His body lay in a cold, dark, dank tomb, buried in haste by a rich disciple who also happened to be a member of the very Council that condemned Him to death.

His disciples were locked away in an upper room, cowering in fear, wondering if they’d be next. Best stay hidden.

His enemies visited the Roman governor and asked him to post a guard at the tomb, “lest His disciples come by night and steal Him away, and say to the people, ‘He has risen from the dead.’ So the last deception will be worse than the first.” (And by getting guard, they proved that the disciples could not have come and taken the body. Ah, I love how God works!)

Yes, the time in the tomb was bleak. The disciples’ dreams of a Messianic kingdom were gone, bled out by the nails that pierced His hands and feet. The last shred of hope pierced by the spear that plunged into His side as He hung on the cross.

But all was not as it seemed.

It never is, is it?

We cannot see what God has in mind. We can only trust that He’s got this, and He knows what He’s doing. That eventually His plan and purpose will be fulfilled. We just have to wait it out.

Wait and pray.

Wait and hope.

Wait and fluctuate between fear and faith. Between despair and hope.

And waiting is the hardest part. It tests our faith, runs roughshod over what hope we’re left clinging to. It stirs up doubt. Does God really care about little me? Is He ever going to make something good happen?

But it’s in the cold, dark, dank tomb that our faith, through trial and testing, strengthens and grows. It doesn’t grow in the good times, when euphoria and adrenaline feed our emotions.

Faith isn’t about emotions, is it?

Faith isn’t about what we think, is it?

Faith, to paraphrase a favorite quote, is like driving at night in the fog (or heavy rain). You can only see as far as your headlights’ beam, but you can make the whole trip that way.

[image error]Laverne enjoys a grandchild seven months before her accident. (Photo taken by James Hooks. Used with permission.)

My friend and sister-in-Christ Laverne has lain in a coma since a speeding car hit her and sent her careening headfirst onto the pavement. For nearly two years friends have prayed for a miracle.

I prayed. But, like the disciples, I doubted. Two years of of nothing. Her time—and our time—in the tomb.

But a thought came, unbidden: “Wouldn’t Easter be the perfect time for God to bring this precious lady of faith out of her tomb?” I pushed it aside. After all, look at the facts. Even the doctors said there was no hope. And even if her body survived, her mind wouldn’t.

Then I got a message from her husband: “Today Laverne was alert, with one eye open, squeezing my hand. Actually moved her hand sideways. When I got there, the nurse that shifts her position said Laverne was actually helping her move. (Never happened before.) Small miracles, slow but adding up. Thanks for continued prayers.”

Shame on me. I’m too much like Thomas. I want to see before I believe. But I have to believe before I can truly see.

Are you in a tomb?

Have faith. Cling to that last thread of hope.

Sunday’s coming. New life will explode out of that tomb.

Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief. Amen.

From God, Me, & a Cup of Tea for the Seasons, © 2018 Michele Huey. All rights reserved. Used with permission.

From the Desk of David Jeremiah

I received this email from Dr. David Jeremiah this morning and wanted to share it with you. May it bless you, encourage you, and strengthen your heart and spirit as it did me. ~Michele

Dear Michele,

There is no question, we are living in a time of unprecedented uncertainty—it is unlike anything I have experienced in my lifetime.

My prayer is that you are healthy, in a safe place, and surrounded by those you love. Many people around the globe are struggling with illness, loss of employment, or are experiencing lonely isolation—we need to keep them in prayer.

The temptation in times like these is to allow fear and worry to creep into our thoughts and to rob us of our joy. But in this uncertain world filled with many unknowns, we need to remember what we do know:

God is still in control.
He is on the throne.
He is not surprised by the events in our world today!
He is sovereign—nothing happens without His permission.
He is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

You are loved by God and nothing can separate you from His love. You may feel isolated, but God is near to you through the working of the Holy Spirit. God is ready, right now, to communicate to you through prayer and His Word. You are His child and the Father is ever-present to give you comfort, guidance, and perfect peace.

He is the Great Physician, Jehovah-Rapha, the One who heals. Though sickness surrounds us, God’s power and protection goes before you. Nothing is impossible for God. No force is insurmountable for Him to conquer, and no evil is too diabolical for Him to vanquish.

His Word remains a lamp unto your feet and a light unto your path. Your prayers are heard by the great I AM—the light of the world—the Good Shepherd. He delights in His children and longs to give you the desires of your heart.

He is the rock of your salvation. Your mighty fortress. Your strength. Your help. Your hiding place. Your shield.

And because you are a child of God, you can confidently rest in His providence and protection during this time of turmoil. God is our certainty in uncertain times.

I am praying for you. Please keep the ministry of Turning Point in your prayers, as well. We will continue to bring the healing power of God’s Word to you each day on radio, television, and online. I hope this will be a source of encouragement to you during the current coronavirus pandemic.

God is in control,





























David Jeremiah

From Amazed to Afraid

Without Purse or Script” by Liz L. Swindle

Read and reflect on Mark 10:32-34.

Now they were on the road, going up to Jerusalem, and Jesus was going before them; and they were amazed. And as they followed, they were afraid.  – Mark 10:32  NKJV

Jesus was walking into a lion’s den. The disciples knew the Pharisees were just waiting for a chance to get rid of Him. They’d witnessed the many times the Pharisees had tried to trap Jesus. And they’d heard the words of warning Jesus had given them twice before: That He would suffer terrible things when He went to Jerusalem, be rejected by the religious powers that be, and be killed. And He’d rise from the dead.

They knew danger lay ahead, but there was no convincing Jesus to stay out of Jerusalem. They couldn’t fathom it. Their sense was to protect their Master, to keep Him with them as long as possible. Why would He knowingly go to a place where death awaited Him? They were amazed not only that He dared to go but also that His steps were firm, His attitude resolute.

Amazement was nothing new to the disciples. It had been a daily occurrence for the three years they’d followed Him, lived with Him, learned from Him. But their amazement turned to fear as they drew nearer to the “City of Peace.” Did Jesus want to die?

Yes. He had to, for only the sinless Lamb could become the sacrifice needed to take away our sins. This wasn’t what they signed on for three years earlier when Jesus invited them to follow Him. They thought He’d set up His kingdom and they’d be the bigwigs. James and John even asked to sit on either side of Him—the places of highest honor. How little they understood!

Isn’t the same with us? When we first decide to follow Jesus, we’re excited, amazed, hopeful for what’s ahead. Then things don’t turn out the way we expect. Instead of reward for our sacrifices, for our good deeds, we get trials and troubles. Like the disciples, we don’t fathom the eternal significance of our decision or of our daily choices. We don’t want to wait for our rewards. We want to enjoy them now. We follow Him in amazement at first, then as the road gets steeper and we begin to understand the real cost of following Jesus, the fear sets in.

The remedy for fear is to do what Jesus did: Focus on the Father. Like Corrie ten Boom said: “Never be afraid to trust the unknown future to a known God.”

Never let the amazement of following You dwindle, O Lord. Keep my face set to Jerusalem. Amen.

From God, Me & a Cup of Tea for the Seasons, © 2018 Michele Huey. All rights reserved. Used with permission.

I Still Believe

[image error]Image by christels from Pixabay

I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress; My God, in Him I trust.” –Psalm 91:2 NKJV

 One of our favorite movies is Beautiful Dreamer, the story of a World War II pilot who was shot down and captured by the enemy. He’d just married his childhood sweetheart when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor and catapulted the US into the war. Patriotism exploded throughout the country, and Joe enlisted. Every morning as his company of pilots prepared for the day, they recited Psalm 91 as a group.

That was the first time I really took more than a passing interest in this psalm. Since then, I’ve read it over and over, in different Bible translations. I even attempted to memorize it, repeating several verses at night as I lay in bed so it would be the last thing on my mind before I fell asleep. A lady I know recites it every morning.

In these uncertain times, with the COVID-19 pandemic spreading like wildfire and a roller coaster economy wreaking havoc around the globe, fear seems to be knocking on every door. I’m not going to tell you not to be afraid. None of us has ever experienced anything like this.

We have much to be concerned about, but we don’t have to let fear control us. As Paul wrote Timothy, “God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind” (2 Timothy 1:7).

I still believe in an omniscient, sovereign God. He’s not lost control. I believe He is working through this crisis to draw people closer to Him, to open their eyes and hearts. I pray that many will come to saving faith and a deeper faith.

I still trust Him to provide for me. I’m not afraid I won’t have enough because His Word says that God will supply everything I need – and not sparingly but generously, “according to His riches in glory” (Philippians 4:19). I don’t have to stockpile for fear I won’t have what I need when I need it. Jesus told us to put God first and strive for the attitude and character of God and “all these things shall be added unto you” (Matthew 6:33). What things? Food, clothing, and, yes, even toilet paper.

I believe each day’s need will be met when it’s needed. Remember the Hebrews and the manna? God gave them just enough for each day, no more, no less. This same God will provide my daily bread.

“So don’t worry about tomorrow,” Jesus commands us, “for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Each day has enough trouble of its own. (Read Matthew 6:25–34.)

In these uncertain times, how can we keep fear at bay?

Put on the armor of God (Ephesians 6:10–18). Take up the shield of faith (see Psalm 3:3) and wield sword of the Spirit (the Word of God and prayer).

Trust Him. “When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer.” (Corrie ten Boom)

Use this sequestered time as a spiritual retreat. Read, meditate on, and study God’s Word. Read through the Psalms. Conduct a word study using a concordance. Start with the word trust and list verses that refer to trust. Write them out and read them frequently.

Or do a verse study, taking one verse apart. What does it say? What does it mean? What is God saying to you? How can you apply this to your life?

Keep a promise journal and list all the promises of God that you come across in your Bible reading and study.

Pray. Unceasingly. When you wake up through the night, banish worry with prayer. Prayer isn’t just a religious activity. It’s a relationship. (Henry Blackaby)

And finally, “never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.” (Corrie ten Boom)

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. (Psalm 91:1)

Under Your wings, Lord, I find refuge from the fear that stalks my door. Thank you for being my shelter in this time of storm. Amen.

Read and reflect on Psalm 91.

(c) 2020 Michele Huey. All rights reserved.