MY REFUGE

Last month I was in a counseling appointment and shared that the following verse had stood out to me when I had recently come across it. 

2 Samuel 22:3a My God is my rock, in whom I take refuge.

The previous month had been discouraging on all fronts and I was feeling stuck. I'd like to say that when I feel stuck I consistently make wise choices that get me moving forward on the right track, but the truth is that I often choose to avoid reality by wasting time on Facebook or losing myself in a stack of library books. There's obviously nothing wrong with interacting with friends online or enjoying a good book, but my motives and goals need to be appropriate.

As I read those familiar words, I started thinking about what a refuge is. It's a place of safety, right? Somewhere we will be protected from whatever hardship we're facing. But it's also a place we have to choose, a place we intentionally seek out. Refuges don't come to us, we go to them. 

The question I asked myself, even though I already knew the answer, was whether or not God is my refuge. I believe he is always a refuge, but whether or not he's my refuge is up to me. Sure, I'd say he's my refuge, but actions speak louder than words. Far too often he is not where I turn when life is overwhelming, confusing, or otherwise rotten. The truth is that Facebook and library books are my refuge. They are where I tend to automatically turn when I want protection from whatever junk life is throwing at me.

The problem is that those things, although not inherently bad, don't actually offer protection. All they provide is distraction. Unfortunately, life is still waiting for me when Facebook runs out of interesting posts and the last chapter of a book comes to an end. But I'm no more prepared to deal with it than I was before.

An actual refuge, on the other hand, offers a safe place to land when I need help, but the goal is to make forward progress when I leave. It's not a place to ignore my problems, but to either rest as I figure out how to address them or catch my breath while my problems pass over on their own. 

If I believe that God created this world, that he created me and knows exactly what I need, then he needs to be my refuge, the place of safety that I seek out. Whether I'm studying my Bible at the table to remind myself of his promises and to look for his guidance or praying for comfort through buckets of tears while I'm curled up in bed, he should be the first place I turn when I need help. 

I definitely think there are times we just need to hit pause and focus on something unrelated to the big struggles in our life for a time, but that's not what I'm talking about here. Taking a break to spend a little time on Facebook in the midst of a chaotic day is fine. Sitting on the lawn long enough to read a chapter of whatever book I'm working through before I dive back into whatever part of life is complicated is not a problem. That's just resting, and it's good. I'm talking about where we automatically turn in hard times, where we linger when we're in trouble. I know the difference between the two in my own life and I'm sure you do in yours.

Maybe you're not on Facebook and you hate reading, but we all have refuges that aren't ideal. Which activity, person, thing, or place do you run to first when life is hard? Why do you turn that direction? Is it helpful for getting your head and heart back in a healthy place? Does it provide a responsible way for you to deal with the problems you're facing? If not, then maybe you should acknowledge it as a distraction and quit pretending it's a refuge. That doesn't necessarily mean you avoid it completely, but it does mean that you're honest about why you're turning in that direction. For me, that means asking myself if I'm cracking open a book because I love reading and am intentionally making time to do something I enjoy, hopping online to check Facebook because I have some time to spare and want to satisfy my extrovert desire for interaction with other people, or if I'm doing either of those things because I'm stressed, grumpy, and avoiding people or situations that need my attention. 

It's been four weeks since my last appointment, the one where I'd shared this insight about how I have to choose my refuge and intentionally move toward it, and I'd love to say I've been spending lots of time in prayer and reading my Bible, that I'm rarely, if ever, turning to my primary distractions instead of to God as my refuge when I'm unhappy. But that would be a lie. It's been a rough stretch the last few months and what I know is best in my head is still working it's way down deep enough in my heart to cause a major change in my behavior. I'm a work in progress, that's for sure, but I'm still thankful for the reminder that I choose my refuge. I want to choose wisely. I want to choose God.