Still I Will Praise You...

I stood next to his table, glancing over at him repeatedly. In my heart and mind, I was desperately working up the courage to say something to him. He was a little Hispanic man sitting hunched over his tray of food. He looked over his shoulder at me, smiled, and then quietly continued eating. I arrived at the Rescue Mission a few minutes before with the goal of speaking with someone in Spanish, yet now that my opportunity had arrived, my tongue tied up in a knot, and a lump nestled snugly in my throat. What was I to say? Would I even understand him?

As my mind clouded with questions and fears, the Hispanic man looked again over his shoulder at me, and with a smile said, "Hola! Como estas?" With excitement, I shoved my fears behind me and responded. Even though I spent the conversation stumbling over Spanish phrases that I recently learned and at times made a fool of myself, I can confidently say that it was worth it. Why had I been so afraid?

After dinner was cleaned up, I joined the homeless for Chapel. I sat in the second to front row listening intently to the encouraging words coming from the speaker. He shared about how God is our refuge and shelter in times of storm, how we can rely on Him, run to Him and be safe. I smiled as I heard the wonderful promise of God's presence and power in our life, but I knew the promise was far more precious for the others sitting in the room, for those who feel no security or peace. I glanced over to the man sitting nearest to me and watched him as the words comforted his heart. His scraggly beard shifted and his eyes squinted slightly, holding a soft gleam. He must have been smiling too.

When the speaker finished, he prayed and then the worship leader began leading us in songs of praise to our Refuge and Strength. As we sang the words, "Oh no, You never let go, through the calm and through the storm...", I looked back to the men seated behind me. One man across the room was on his knees, with his hands stretched to heaven and tears streaming down his cheeks. My eyes filled with tears as I watched him unashamedly worship his Comforter, his Healer, his Shelter, his Redeemer. Imagine the burdens he carried, the fears he battled with, the fatigue that weakened his body. Every day was a new storm of its own. Yet as he worshiped, I saw on his face the peace and love he felt from the Everlasting Arms which held him. "I can see a light that is coming for the heart that holds on. And there will be an end to these troubles, but until that day comes, still I will praise You. Still I will praise You..."

It is so easy for me to say, "God is my Refuge and Strength, an ever present help in times of storm" and not really know what that means. It is easy for me to read the Bible and simply smile at the words on the pages, because I'm unaware of how His presence and nearness should bring me to my knees. It is easy to take lightly what David writes in Psalms, "Be my Rock of refuge to which I can always run" and fail to run to Him myself.

I want to sing of my Refuge, fully believing and understanding the promise that He will never let go.

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, Your perfect love is casting out fear. And even when I’m caught in the middle of the storms of this life, I won’t turn back. I know You are near..."