I was praying tonight and I looked at the clock.
“Read Psalm 121,” He said.
I opened my Bible and recited the following passage out loud several times. (Quietly of course—the rest of my household was sleeping as most normal people tend to do at this hour.)
I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.
My help cometh from Yahweh, which made heaven and earth.
He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber.
Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.
Yahweh is thy keeper: Yahweh is thy shade upon thy right hand.
The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.
Yahweh shall preserve thee from all evil: He shall preserve thy soul.
Yahweh shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even forevermore.
He has always been my keeper. My protector. The guardian of my heart.
My body language often says much more than my lips would dare to speak.
Shoulders hunched forward. Arms folded tightly across my chest. Eyes darting to and fro (mostly toward the ground) as I stammer through sentences and struggle to engage in small talk with a stranger.
Most of the people I meet are strangers. Even some of those whom I’ve “known” for a decade or more…
Mainly because I’ve never opened up to them. Never poured my heart out. Never really been honest with…
Why do I struggle so much to open up to people?
Fear? Fear of what?
Not being seen or heard.
Aha! That’s why I cross my arms and hunch my shoulders and cast my glance astray.
I. don’t. want. to. get. hurt.
I must protect myself. I must protect my body. My soul. My heart.
I have to stay on guard.
“No you don’t,” Abba whispers.
“Put down your sword. I am your keeper. I am your protector. I will guard your heart.”
I believe Him.
I believe Him, because he has always protected me. Even in those times when I subconsciously wondered where He was.
“I was there,” He says. “I’ve never left you.”
I. have. never. left. you.
Those words haunt me like Casper. They’re the words He spoke to me the very first time I heard His voice nine years ago.
“Uncross your arms. Let down your defenses. Shoulders back, chest up, eyes forward and fixed on the prize. You have My Armor on you now. I will preserve you from all evil. I will preserve your soul forever.
Walk and speak with confidence, dear daughter of mine. Let your light shine bright for all the world to see.”