Leaning on the Everlasting Arms

Did you know that a child of God is never out of the reach of his loving arms?

"The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms" (Deuteronomy 33:27).

Last week I had the awesome honor and privilege to get to speak about my devotional book, Notes from the Nest, at Chic Lit - a monthly ladies luncheon at Calvary Baptist Church (my mom and dad's church) in Las Cruces, New Mexico. There were approximately 47 ladies in attendance. Now, anyone who knows me knows that I AM NOT, by any means, a public speaker. The Sunday night prior I stood up and read a devotional from my own book during our Sunday evening service. The people attending...fewer than 47...dear close church family members that I know and love. I stood at the little portable podium shaking, quivering and not breathing...and that lasted only a very few minutes. Afterward I thought, how am I going to be able to speak...for an hour...in front of a group of women I don't know, how on earth am I going to be able to get through Chic Lit?

I asked for prayer from the prayer warrior sisters-in-Christ with whom I study God's Word and my family. My prayer was for confidence, to be empowered to speak boldly about my book; my book of very personal devotions telling of God's mercy, love and providence faithfully shown through the years to my family and me.

My daughter, Meghan, fourteen month old grandson, Wesley and I travelled the two days to Las Cruces. We enjoyed a lovely and very special evening with family in a wonderful celebration of my grandmother.

Then came Tuesday...Chic Lit day.

Chic Lit begins at twelve noon with a potluck lunch. The food looked and smelled wonderful, but I knew, with the butterflies fluttering in my nervous stomach, eating was most probably not a good idea for me. So, while the ladies ate I met and chatted with a few of them and did a lot of silent praying and rehearsing.

At 12:35 my mom proudly stood up at the microphone and introduced the day's speaker...me!

With a copy of my book in hand and my carefully chosen "props" close by...ready for display...I walked up to the mic - quite pleased thus far - I didn't trip!

The first thing I needed to let these ladies know was my great fear of public speaking (no matter how big or small the public). I likened my fear of public speaking to my number one fear...needles.

I gave an example through a personal story:

The year, 1965. The place, Dugway, Utah. The event, childhood inoculation day.

All first graders...all 25 or 30 of us lined up single-file in the hallway of our little post elementary school. Like sheep being led to the slaughter we walked from the little grade school on post to the hospital. Dugway was so small one could walk and be anywhere they needed to be in mere minutes. I clearly recall standing in line with my friends; watching victim after victim as they were being held very still by one nurse in a starched white uniform and having a needle jammed into their little arm by another cold, white starched uniform. I began to hear my own heart pound through my ears as my turn quickly approached. When I found myself being held in the stranger's firm grasp - to say I stood in fear and trembling is the understatement of the century! Terror and panic overcame me and with a great burst of adrenaline I broke through the arms of nurse Ratched and ran the entire way home. I ran right into the caring and protective arms of my beloved mother...a place a great safety! After patiently listening to my horror story my loving mother packed up my little brother, took a firm grip on my arm and marched me right back to the enemy's camp!

After telling this little ice-breaker story I began to feel more and more confident...this wasn't going to be so bad!

I read my first devotional...a very brief synopsis or outline of my life.

Then, I began more detailed devotionals...beginning with my wonderful, simple, precious childhood. I reached into my bag to pull out prop number one...a beloved, grainy, enlarged 1966 picture of my sisters, brother and me taken with Santa Claus in my grandparent's humble home in Bairoil, Wyoming. A snapshot in time when life was the essence of pure happiness and perfection.

I looked at the picture. With shaking hands I laid it down on the table beside me. Instantly, I froze. I was overcome with emotion. My eyes filled with tears, I couldn't focus on my own words written in my book. My throat tightly closed...all I could utter, barely loud enough for me to hear, was "I shouldn't have taken out this picture." All I could hear in the deafeningly quiet auditorium was the thunder of my own heartbeat pounding faster and faster. The rhythm of my breathing was anything but natural. My tears caused a cloudy film to form over my contact lenses, nothing was in focus. I just stood there looking out at the sweet blurred faces of the ladies...helpless...wanting to run to my mother's arms. Then, up walked my mom, she wrapped a loving arm around me. The air was thick with the fragrance of prayer. In a matter of seconds I realized not only was I wrapped in the loving grasp of my mother, I was also wrapped in the faithful, everlasting and encouraging arms of my heavenly Father. He gave me my voice. I spoke for an hour, and with God's help I didn't trip!

As I reflect back on the choice of my opening story I realize it was no coincidence...it was God inspired!

I encourage you to always look for assurance, encouragement, safety and strength as you lean on the everlasting arms of Jesus!