I’m Finally Safe

I have taken a break from writing for some time. That never really goes well for me considering I am a person who processes all things—good or bad—through the compilation of words on a journal/screen. Things start to make sense, and it is one of my favorite ways to connect with God, especially through the writing/typing of scripture. Writing down scripture brings to life the words that I read from the page. Reading it or hearing it just isn’t enough for me. I have to write it and speak it over and over again for it to stick in that thick, thick brain of mine. The truth of God’s word sets me free, and I am thankful for God’s continuous forgiveness and constant presence in my life. Although it seems like it at times, I have realized there is more to my life than the constant search of relief from all the pain that the world offers me—that there’s safety amongst the crushing that seems to be never-ending.

The word safe has not left my mind since the start of the new year. It is a common word used in goodbyes. It often sounds like, “Be safe. Let me know when you get home.” People throw that word around because they want their people safe. They want their people to make it home and let them know they have done it safely without the disturbance of anything that may alter their lives in any dramatic way. To be unsafe is scary and not the ideal way to live. I have been living in the unsafe for way too long. 

I wholeheartedly desire to live a life above the line of brokenness. I want to walk out in healing and showcase the wonderful things God has done for me. I run along a tightrope and often misstep. I unfortunately and admittedly throw myself into the unsafe, hoping I could get some sort of euphoric feeling that completes me by the adrenaline rush that comes with it. Time and time again, I prove to myself that the selfish choices I make fail me, and time and time again, I blindly and foolishly trust the instinct of entering a landfill of empty promises. 

As a visual person that spends my time meditating on God’s scripture, really just delving into the imagination that God’s word speaks to me, I often go to a place where I know Jesus is with me. I set the scene, making it as personal as possible, creating and noticing every little crevice of the place I am at with the Lord. Often times, it is a blanket-white coffee shop with ceiling-to-floor windows as the walls that surround the place where Jesus and I sit alone at a table in the middle of the room. This is my favorite place to be. It is my safest place to be. No matter the scene, Jesus is where I need to be to feel this surreal security that I find nowhere else.

The start of 2023, as cliche as it can be, was the start of something new, and for the first time probably ever, I welcomed the change; 2022 was not the type of year I’d highlight as my best. I poked at and made fun of an open wound of failing choices. I created calluses in my heart and became desensitized to values I seemed to once hold so closely. But there, with Jesus, in that blanket-white coffee shop, I am safe from the horrors that haunt me by just calling on His name and acknowledging His always-present existence in my life. Proverbs 18:10 says, “The name of the Lord is a fortified tower; the righteousness run to it and are safe.” I am safe with the Lord. There is no other way to put it. I pray that you can create that safe space for yourself. Reminding myself of Proverbs 18:10 has helped me to fight off the attacks, and I just know that His word will continue to keep me safe for the rest of the year.