safe

By the time he was five years old, my dad had discovered that the world is not safe.

He was the youngest of three children, and his boyhood was traumatic. After his parents divorced, Dad found himself pulled between two dysfunctional homes. In one, alcoholism wreaked havoc. In the other, mental illness and promiscuity. I’ll spare you the details, but trust me, it was nothing a child should ever know.

Somehow he stumbled through grade school and high school and made it to college before spending two years in the army and the Vietnam War. More pain, more trauma.

Until the day his life was spared when it shouldn’t have been. 

Somewhere outside of Phu Loi, Vietnam, the companies in front of and behind his were ambushed. His unit was spared. 

Months later he returned home to his young wife with a Bronze Star, physically unscathed. 

Less than a year later, I was born.

But Dad was never the same. He returned from war a different man, both for good and for bad. War, especially a politically charged one like Vietnam, has a way of tearing at the fabric of a man’s soul. Even so, a small spark of new life had also taken hold. In spite of a lifetime of pain, he believed there had to be a reason he was still alive. 

So he started searching for its source, for the God his faith-filled grandma had often told him about.

A year later, a coworker invited him to church.

And that’s when God started rebuilding the broken boy turned man. 

The world still wasn’t safe, Dad knew that. He faced plenty more challenges, as we all do. 

But he’d found a refuge. A God who had laid down His life to save another’s.

Some of you discovered that the world wasn’t safe early in life, too. 

Perhaps you had a parent with mental illness. 

Or maybe a neighbor who took advantage of you. 

For some it was a teacher who constantly criticized or a foster care system that failed. 

The possibilities are so varied and painful, I can hardly write them out. Even beyond the acute traumas, ordinary days can be riddled with the unexpected.

Busy streets, sharp objects, threatening strangers. With each passing year, each step closer to adulthood, a child’s fear is confirmed again and again. Danger is everywhere and hardship cannot be avoided.

This life can be dangerous and terrifying.

Psalm 91 gives us a glimpse of the various sufferings we can expect:

“the fowler’s snare” (Psalm 91:3)

“deadly pestilence” (Psalm 91:3)

“the terror of night” (Psalm 91:5)

“the arrow that flies by day” (Psalm 91:5)

“the pestilence that stalks in the darkness” (Psalm 91:6)

“the plague that destroys at midday” (Psalm 91:6)

“a thousand may fall at your side” (v. 7)

Disease. Conflict. Terrorism. Unrelenting fear. Injustice. Death. At morning, midday, and night. Under the cover of darkness or in the bright light of day. Pain will come. Period.

It sounds morbid and overwhelming. Unless we find the one place of safety even a war can’t crush

The psalmist knew this, which is why he doesn’t leave us in a pit of despair. Instead, he describes a refuge so secure we can rest in spite of the war.

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” — Psalm 91:12

Choosing God as your safety doesn’t mean the struggles will cease. The cave doesn’t lessen the intensity of the storm outside. It doesn’t still the thunder or cease the lightning or keep the rain from falling.

The cave provides a place of peace. Even when the storm continues to swirl.

This is what Dad discovered as he fought wars both at home and abroad.

No, the world is not a safe place.

But there is no refuge like our God.

-michele cushatt