my Father is good.

i spent last night in the arms of my Father.

as i sat in His lap, head against His heartbeat, it wasn’t a 20-something who, exhausted from crying, drew in ragged breaths. i found rest on His chest as a little girl, confused and broken and needing rescue.

the minutes were precious – in His arms i found the beginning of healing. i found the Protector who was with me so long ago. i felt the Vindicator breathe deep and prepare to battle on my behalf.

it was then i knew. i may not have chosen the hurts of my past. i may not willingly walk through the pain of yesterday all over again. but my Father is good. and as much as i don’t understand these memories and as much as i want to hide, i find shelter in His embrace. this is the only place i can look at my past without fear because the same One who is holding me now is the same One who protected me long ago.

i said a couple weeks ago i was holding onto my one word for all it’s worth. i practiced this last night. arms around my Father, i closed my eyes and held on tight to Jubilee. there is a time for everything and with my Father, who works all things for my good, the time for rejoicing is near.