He whispers quiet in the night when I am at an end of myself. He calms and quiets me with His love. A love that speaks strong but still. For I find Him most in the stillness. Not in the racing or the chasing or the striving, but in the aloneness of an empty bedroom, the stillness of the dark night, the mighty quiet of His open Word.
'How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of Hosts!
My soul longs, indeed it faints for the courts of the Lord;
my heart and my flesh sing for joy to the living God.
Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for herself,
where she may lay her young, at your altars, O Lord of hosts,
my King and my God.'
He remembers this sparrow. He knows this weak song.
And He gently reminds me that there is a home. A good and safe and pleasing home in the house of God. He is my home. He is my resting place. And He is ever waiting for me to simply fly home. To stop the flitting and wandering. To rest quiet in the shadow of His wings. To find peace in repentance and rest. This winter quiet is made for renewal. Restoring the heart and soul and mind. Laying the young ones in the care of the Almighty. For He cares for them more than I can imagine.
So tonight I rest. . . in the shadow of God.