“The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him, and he delivers them.”                                     - Psalm 34:7

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One afternoon as I sat in a little mountain cabin, preparing for my annual seminar at The Billy Graham Training Center at The Cove, I became aware that it was growing dark outside.  The wind picked up, bending the trees double as it roared along the ridge like a jet plane flying terribly off course.  Tree branches snapped under the strain, sounding as though some phantom hunter’s shotgun was recklessly opening fire. When I looked out the window, I saw a grey curtain sweeping across the little valley, and I knew the rain was coming.  It did!  Within moments, the cabin was under a deluge that could be likened to perpendicular white water rapids.

As the storm unleashed in all of its fury outside the cabin, inside I was snuggled under a blanket, curled up in an easy chair beside a crackling fire, with a cup of hot coffee in my hand and an open Bible on my lap.  And I thanked God for a safe, dry, comfortable refuge from the storm.

Then I thought of other storms that rage…storms that suddenly burst into my life as a crisis or disaster.  Storms that build slowly until they seem to consume and overwhelm . . . an unsettling doctor’s report . . . the deteriorating health of a loved one . . . misunderstandings that wound . . . deafness that isolates . . . worry that overwhelms . . . phone calls that erupt into confrontations . . . unmet wants to meet what I perceive as needs . . . disagreements that lead to painful divisions . . . headaches and heartaches and hearsay . . . weakness and weariness and busyness that make me vulnerable to the Enemy’s attacks . . . and so many more.

Then God seemed to whisper in my ear, reminding me that He is my Refuge from the storms. He is . . .  
             my Healer in disease,
                         my Hope in death,
                                    my Help in despair . . . 
             my Provision in want,
                         my Peace in worry, 
                                    my Power in weakness . . .
             my Shield from attack,
                         my Solace in grief,
                                    my Shelter in danger.
              He is my Hiding Place . . . my Harbor . . . my High Tower . . .
                                    my Anchor . . . my Answer . . . 
                                               my Fortress . . .
                                               my Redeemer . . .
                                               my Rock.

So I quietly bowed my head, and thanked God again for my Refuge in the storm . . .

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