In you, O Lord, I take refuge;
let me never be put to shame.
In your righteousness deliver me and rescue me;
incline your ear to me and save me.
Be to me a rock of refuge,
a strong fortress, to save me,
for you are my rock and my fortress.
Rescue me, O my God, from the hand of the wicked,
from the grasp of the unjust and cruel.
For you, O Lord, are my hope,
my trust, O Lord, from my youth.
Upon you I have leaned from my birth;
it was you who took me from my mother’s womb.
My praise is continually of you.
I’m not sure if you can tell by the way I write, but I am a preacher’s daughter. A PK, as they call us. And, if you haven’t guessed, I’m in the “family business.” It’s funny how things work out, I grew up in a pastor’s home, and I was determined never to let my children go through what I had to go through. But, God has a mighty sense of humor, and so here I am. Going through some of the very things that I had been trying to avoid. It’s not easy, this thing they call ministry. But, oddly enough, or, really, through the grace of God, I’m able to go through each day, each time it gets really hard, and come out the other side still determined and sure of my call to the local church.
In the midst of times when it gets really tough, it is good to know that God is my refuge.
We’ve changed the word, and now really only associate it with refugee. Refugees have been torn from their homes in the midst of war and natural disaster and famine and are in a place that is not their home.
It’s an interesting concept, I’ve become a refugee in my own place as I search for a home and rest in Christ. In a way, we are called to be refugees as members of the Church. This place is not our home. We are moving on to a different place. We are called to live as a part of this world, and yet are still holding onto the promise that we will find rest in a newly remade home.
As a PK I knew I was only ever as far away as the next June to a possible moving time. It didn’t matter what was going on really, the partnership between Dad and the church could be going great and the District Superintendent could still call and say, “we need you somewhere else.”
I never became too attached after my first big move. But I still always looked for promise wherever we were. I still look for promise. And it shows up. Promise reveals itself in the midst of the driest places. Like a flower in the midst of the desert. Bright blue and purple in the midst of brown and dust.