When news first broke of the terrible massacre that was unfolding in southern Israel and we suddenly found ourselves plunged into the middle of a war, I had no words to pray.
All there was inside me was a deep sense of horror. It was too raw to even articulate. I didn’t want to look at it too closely in case I fell apart.
As the days went by and I tried to function through my brain fog, making plans and trying to organise flights to England, I saw many calls to prayer on social media.
I was grateful that others were taking up the battle in spiritual realms, but I still had no prayer in me.
It was a peculiar feeling. Like a bomb had gone off deep inside and everything around me was eerily quiet. The buzz of thoughts and ideas that normally rush around my head was still. The world seemed to be moving in slow motion.
I wasn’t able to articulate what I thought or felt. I had no clear sense of how or what to pray. Nor did I feel like I could read my Bible.
Yet one thing I knew for sure. God understood. He loved me and did not expect anything more of me than I was able to give. The scripture that hovered in the back of my mind was Deuteronomy 33:27:
“The eternal God is your refuge,
And underneath are the everlasting arms…”
I knew that God’s arms were beneath me, keeping me from falling. But I wasn’t quite ready to sink into those arms and receive the Father’s embrace. I needed to hold myself together. I couldn’t let go. I didn’t want a hug from anyone, even God.
It was only after we had been in England for two weeks, that I finally felt ready to receive God’s comfort.
I woke up one morning with a deep sense of fear. The war in Israel was escalating and I was struggling to cope with the uncertainty. My children’s anxiety was off the scales and I felt powerless to help them. The violent rise of antisemitism in England and around the world was terrifying. The mountains before me were just too high and too steep.
I knew that I needed to draw close to God.
As I lay in bed, I gently repeated the words of Deuteronomy 33:27. The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.
As I spoke the words, I imagined myself as a small child nestling into my Father’s enormous, strong, tender embrace. At once, a powerful sense of peace filled the room. I basked in the presence of God as my fears fell away.
My son was fast asleep beside me. He had crawled into my bed in the middle of the night after a nightmare. As I experienced wave after wave of God’s peace, I softly stroked my son’s hair and wordlessly blessed him.
When my daughter woke up, I hugged her and told her about my encounter with God. I encouraged her that whatever we’re going through, however scary and difficult, God’s arms are always beneath us.
I wasn’t expecting the response she gave:
“But if God’s arms are underneath me and somebody cuts me with a knife, won’t it hurt God too?”
This isn’t the sort of question that any seven year old girl should feel the need to ask. But of course it made sense in light of the hard realities that she was trying to process.
I thought for a minute and then I answered her:
“Yes, when God is holding us, He gets hurt too when we are hurt. But you know what? He doesn’t mind. God is happy to hold us tight even if it hurts Him because He loves us so much.”
My daughter didn’t ask any more questions. She just gave me the biggest hug.
That day was a turning point for our family. Suddenly, we were at rest. Nothing at all had changed in the physical or political situation around us. But yet, in the safety of God’s everlasting arms, everything was different.
Higher Than Me 