He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust” (Psalms 90:1, 2–NIV).

Stirring in the night, I searched the bed with my foot to be sure Bill was there. Discovering him only inches away, I did what I so often do. I carefully tucked my toes into the crook of his right knee and sighed deeply before drifting back to sleep. That was all I needed, after all–just to be sure he was there.

We just need to be sure sometimes, don’t we? To be sure we’re not alone. To be sure there’s someone there. To be sure we’re safe.

We don’t get to stay in our cozy beds, after all, and we live in such precarious times, do we not? Each morning brings the latest news of more outbreak of disease. More cancellations. More closings. We often stifle our worry for the sake of our kids–kissing them goodbye, wishing them a good day with a hug. “Do your best!” we exhort. “Be kind and show love!” but barely before the door closes, we feel as though we’re crumbling under our own burden of fear, and fear often makes us behave in manners quite unbecoming of one who claims to belong to Jesus.

Am I alone? Does anyone else fret–feigning courage while facing some, but, upon seeing her own reflection, recognizes the lines of worry that mar the Maker’s masterpiece? Am I the only one who turns from the mirror doubtful and dismayed? Am I the only one who, due to such anxiety, is altered in the ways I can best show kindness, offer love, shine the light of Christ?

Oh, do I hear Him in His Word? More, do I believe?

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand (Isaiah 41:10–NIV).

Yet, even as I read these words–whether whispered, sung, said, or shouted–I sense a sort of strength rising up within me, and I read them again.

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Yes–there it is. There’s some semblance of strength. I feel braver. More sincere. Once more, I read them again–this time with a bit more boldness…

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

This is what I want, after all–to walk in such confidence that I can do what I’m called to do with no fear of the future. No fear of communicable disease. No panic at the word “pandemic.” I want to be clothed in strength and dignity–head held high.

To walk in such attire–won’t that enable me to show kindness, love lavishly (even without a hug but, rather, with a fist bump or elbow tap), and shine the light of Jesus in a world where fear’s yet so prevalent?

Don’t we want to rise above the heaviness of such dark cloud covering to sing, say, or shout the truth we say we believe?

He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.

He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.

He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.

We claim it. We need to live it. We must demonstrate it to a desperate world. But first, we need to believe it for ourselves–to look at our reflections and proclaim truth that’s at our fingertips. Then–only then–can we turn, having seen the image of our Creator in the mirror, and see Him in others, as well. Then we can love as He loves–with no fear.

But first, we sometimes just have to be sure.

A. A. Milne

Dear Jesus, help us to be sure of You–of Your love and Your protection. Help us to live the words we say we believe–that You are our refuge, our fortress, and our God. In YOU we trust. Then and only then can we leave our cozy beds and be all You’ve called us to be in a world so desperate for hope–today more than ever. Amen.