Whenever we have a thunderstorm at night, our boxer mix, Loco, sits up on our bed, stares down at us and shakes until we wake up.  He doesn’t calm down until my husband takes him into our master closet, a room with no windows.  It’s his safe place.

We also have safe places that we want to go to when things get really stressful.  When I’m feeling stressed, I like to organize my house.  Just cleaning off my desk somehow makes me feel secure when I feel overwhelmed.

What’s funny about Loco being in the master closet is that the closet isn’t really that much safer than our bedroom.  But either way, we don’t leave him alone in his moment of fear.  Michael will lay on the floor with him in the closet for the rest of the night if he needs to.

In the same way, even when I’m looking for security in other things, God is standing beside me.  He doesn’t leave me alone in my moment of fear.  He waits with me, through every minute if he has to.

Sometimes I use that thing that I think will give me security to try to prevent storms.  I have turned to my schedules and plans to try to create outcomes that I have absolutely no control over.  Like trying to get pregnant, or trying to avoid making mistakes at work, or trying to have a perfect marriage.  I do every ritual I can think of to stop the storms from coming.  But they come anyway.

That’s when I realized that organization isn’t my safe place.  God is.  It’s not family, friends, husband, home, job or hobbies that can ultimately protect me from my pain and suffering.  Only God can fully heal my hurts.  Thankfully, he’s patient with me when I forget and long to be in control once again, using tools that will break on me every time.

But sometimes, when I finally remember that God’s love is my true safe place.  And I let him take the lead.  Something really amazing happens.  He doesn’t just walk with me in the storm, but together, we dance in the rain.

What is a safe place that you tend to go to when things get rough?