How blessed the man you train, GOD, the woman you instruct in your Word, Providing a circle of quiet within the clamor of evil, while a jail is being built for the wicked. GOD will never walk away from his people, never desert his precious people. (Psalm 94:12-14 MSG)
Have you ever needed a force field around you? Ever felt like you were being bombarded on all sides? I love the way these verses from the Psalms speak to that. The meaning is universal and timeless. (Isn’t all scripture?). From Israelis in a Jerusalem bomb shelter to a stay-at-home mom in small town USA, God’s Word on the inside of them can provide that circle of peace.
I recently viewed a YouTube video of folks singing a song of peace in a Jerusalem bomb shelter. I was amazed. If I could speak the language, I would have sung along with them. I am praying for those in bomb shelters anywhere in the world, that they will have the inner peace God provides while the world around them is clamoring.
The “clamor of evil” in homes across our land may not be as loud or well-known, but can be just as intense. When my son had chicken pox at eighteen months of age and developed Reyes Syndrome, a condition that killed many infants that year, I knew I was in a battle for his life. His pediatrician sent him home to die. He told me he could do nothing for him. His internal organs were extremely swollen and already past the point of medicinal intervention. The brain would swell next, and then it would be over. I felt like he had just dropped a bomb on me.
Everything I knew about God from the scriptures held me together as I took my son home. I prayed and remembered that His Son took our sicknesses and carried our diseases. I took my battle to Him. Isaiah 53 was my battle cry. A peace came over me in that prayer time. A circle of quiet. My son did recover. Completely. No brain damage or lasting ill effects on his internal organs. He turns thirty-six in a few days, a picture of health.
We are blessed to know He can quiet the storm, or as this verse says, He can quiet His precious one in the storm. Sometimes He does both.
Claire Pridgeon 
I appreciate your transparency and vulnerability in this story. When my daughter was born at 3 1/2 pounds I thought her fate would be like that of my friend who had just buried her baby. The one question I kept repeating was, “did she get enough oxygen?” I had an insufficient placenta and felt so bad even as she grew up and was always way below the weight charts. Although she struggled a little with development and is still underweight as a young adult, otherwise she is normal. I remember assisting one day a special needs child as a substitute teacher. The girl before me had not received enough oxygen. I cannot tell you the pain I felt that day. Pain for the parents who would raise this special needs child. I realized quickly that working in that area was not my area. I came home and cried all day.
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Oh, Anne. You sound just like me. I am thrilled your daughter is fine. When I was in college to get my teaching degree, I had to do a segment of working with special needs children. I went home crying almost every day. Though I love them, I am certain that is not my area either.
Thank you for your comments.
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That’s funny Claire because there I was on lunch break crying and my daughter said, “Mom, you don’t have to keep doing this.” Yep, we are alike in that way.
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