My salvation and my honor depend on God;It was several years ago. We were in the St. Louis area when the storm came. First clue that it wasn't a typical summer storm: A burst of wind knocked a too-close-for-comfort traffic light off its bracket. The race to refuge began.
he is my mighty rock, my refuge.
Limbs began falling and flashes of light came as power lines fell. First stop: to pick up our youngest daughter close by. That was accomplished. Then, we found refuge in a parking garage, almost empty on a Saturday in downtown Clayton, Mo.
We sighed in relief.
This week is Holy Week in most Christian calendars. On Friday, we consider and, yes, celebrate the sacrifice that Jesus Christ made on a cross. Why celebrate such a thing? Because we know how this race to refuge ended.
For on Sunday, we celebrate the resurrection of Christ, and in him, as his disciples found, we have refuge.
How many races to refuge have you experienced? As a stroke survivor, I remember - in bits and pieces - that struggle to find refuge. Like the day we found shelter in a parking garage, my refuge was at hand. In Christ, we can find, time and time again, that shelter in life's storms.
(Photo from National Weather Service, Rapid City, S.D.)
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