The Comfort of God’s Everlasting Arms
Have you ever noticed how parents instinctively position themselves to catch their children? Whether teaching a toddler to walk or spotting a child learning to ride a bike, their arms are always underneath, ready to catch their precious ones when they fall. It's a natural response—one born of love and an intense desire to protect.
This morning, as I was reading in Deuteronomy, a familiar verse caught my attention in a new way. "The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms" (Deuteronomy 33:27). I've read this verse countless times, but today, that word "underneath" jumped off the page and grabbed my heart.
Why underneath? Of all the ways God could have positioned His arms—around us, beside us, or even above us—He specifically tells us His everlasting arms are underneath.
The Tale of Two Left Feet
I stared down at my feet this morning and burst out laughing. Something wasn't quite right. Both of my cozy new socks—a lovely Christmas gift from my husband—were marked with an "L." In my haste to match up the laundry, I'd managed to give myself two left feet!
I raced down the length of the house to share my predicament with Jason. "Look!" I exclaimed, pointing to my feet. "I've got two left feet!"
Without missing a beat, he quipped, "That's appropriate." Cheeky man!
As I giggled back to my office, I couldn't help but ponder the spiritual parallel. Just as these socks were specifically designed as left and right pairs to function optimally, God has uniquely designed each of us with specific purposes within the body of Christ.
The Right Deed Gone Wrong
Have you ever felt like you did the right thing and somehow got punished for it? I certainly have, and recently, these situations seem to be multiplying like rabbits in springtime. There's an old saying that "No good deed goes unpunished," and sometimes life appears determined to prove that axiom true.
In the past couple of weeks, I faced two particularly challenging situations where I followed the right path with the purest intentions, only to be met with heartbreak and disappointment. I won't bore you with the details, but imagine doing everything by the book—crossing every 't', dotting every 'i'—and still ending up with results that make you question whether you should have bothered at all.
In times like these, it's tempting to throw up our hands and say, "Why bother? What's the point in living right if things are going to turn out badly anyway?"
Beyond the “Church Experience”
I was flipping through channels the other night when I landed on one of those singing competition shows. You know the type—aspiring artists performing their hearts out before a panel of celebrity judges. After one particularly moving performance, one of the judges exclaimed, "Wow, you really took us to church!"
I couldn't help but chuckle at the phrase. It's become quite common nowadays, hasn't it? Whether it's a soulful ballad, an impressive guitar solo, or even a particularly passionate speech, people love to say they've been "taken to church." The phrase has come to represent any experience that stirs the emotions or creates a sense of excitement.
But as I pondered this cultural phenomenon, I couldn't help but wonder: Is this what church is really meant to be? An emotional high? A performance that leaves us feeling uplifted for a moment?
