Refuge of Grace

“Quick! Upstairs to hide before they can find us!” My son’s playful voice hurriedly beckons me, so we can hide before big sister and Dad find us. We stumble into his room and climb under the dinosaur sheets, parachuting them over our heads. Floating down, the cozy sheets begin to lower and with them, so does the oxygen filling the tiny space. My chest tightens as I struggle to breathe.

This feeling is not an unfamiliar one. I’ve had it before as I drove to community group needing to share thoughts I’d been having, but honestly, I really didn’t want to. I wanted to hold them in, but the reality was, the longer I resisted, the more permanent their residence. Or when I didn’t want to send the text asking for prayer. My pride got the best of me; I didn’t want to appear weak. I wanted it all tied together and I didn’t want anyone to peek inside.

You know what’s hard about keeping the sheets tightly down over us as we try to hide? Not only do our chests become tighter as the oxygen lowers, but no one can get in. We find ourselves alone in a suffocating environment.

Under the sheet tent, the air thickens becoming more stagnant; my son lifts the sheets bringing in much needed fresh air. Immediately, my chest loosens and I can breathe again.

In the same way, when I share difficult thoughts with the girls in my community group, I feel lighter. Or when I press send on the text asking for prayer, I feel buoyed knowing my precious friend will pray for me. I can exhale, resting in the gift of support community provides.

If life feels suffocating right now, let’s lift the sheet and let the air in. We can bravely exhale, releasing the tension, and allow our people to carry us closer to the feet of Jesus. And who knows, your exhale might just inspire someone else to courageously share—what a gift that would be.