Hiding is not the only option

When I was a small girl, I had a hiding place in the trees west of our house. It was large enough for me and a few of my treasures, but small enough and hidden by overarching branches that I was certain no one in my family knew about it but me. I often went there to be alone because in a family of four I seldom had that opportunity.

I’d also learned to like being alone because of an earlier illness that put me in the hospital for weeks on end. During those days, I learned to amuse myself and discovered that aloneness was not an enemy. I loved my little place in the trees.

After I became an adult and that farm home belonged to someone else, I went back and looked for my little fortress. It took some time to find it and when I did, I was amazed how small it was, and how exposed. How could I have thought that I was hidden when I played there? I was touched by my own naivety.

Compared to the small things that make a happy child seek or create her own exclusive refuge, today’s world is far more scarey and today’s methods of hiding from it are far more complex. I know people who refuse to read a newspaper or watch television news. They want to hide in ignorance of what is out there. It is too much for them.

Others paint it with a coat of positive thinking, as if the ills of society will disappear by looking for the good. They choose to not think about the wrongs, only focus on whatever good they can find.

Sometimes I pray hoping that God will fix it. Sometimes He does, but this reminds me of the cartoon where a man is yelling at God with, “Why are there so many bad things in the world?” And God answers back, “I might ask you the same question.” Usually, when a Christian is burdened by something, God does want prayer, but sometimes that prayer becomes an escape from our responsibility to seek justice, be generous and compassionate, and actually put shoe leather to the burden. He gives me a concern because He wants me to do something about it.

Other times the evil in the world does overwhelm me. As an individual, there is little or nothing I can do about most of them. I can pray, and I know that I should not blank out, be a Pollyanna, or turn away from any opportunity to help.

Today I read Psalm 9:9-10, which prompted these thoughts. “The Lord also will be a refuge for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble. And those who know Your name will put their trust in You; for You, Lord, have not forsaken those who seek You.”

In Scripture, the idea of a refuge is not a place to hide from the world, but a place to go when I need to bring matters to God in private. Actually, it is not even a place necessarily. It might be, but it is more a state of mind. In these verses, it is a stronghold, a safe place where I know that nothing will touch me apart from the permission of God.

In other words, my protection from the distress around me is not being hidden from it, but having a Body Guard who controls what gets to me. Sensitive people let everything “get” to them. The news is usually terrible and bloody. Television images can produce nightmares. The overwhelming bad news is not only confusing, but is a burden far too great.

However, God is my fortress. He knows where and when I need protection. He also knows where and when something should come through His line of defense to perturb me, move me, even keep me awake at night. He knows how motivate me to action, certainly prayer first, but also to get busy and use the resources He has given me to do something about at least a small part of all the troubles that are out there.

Now, instead of a hiding place to play in, I think that my fortress is more a place to regroup, renew my strength, seek my Master’s will, and get my marching orders—so that I can go back out into my world and face it without wanting to run for cover.