Throughout my life, I have been rescued by someone I cannot feel or see or touch, yet I know it has been by His hand each time. When I remember the things in my life that really mattered or have made an impact on me, He is there. The hero in the story. My story woven into His story.

Sometimes, He rescues me from me. From what is in my head. From what I have allowed in my heart. Pruning away the former to make room for new growth. New opportunities. Sometimes, I need to remember who I am in Him. To remember how to stand in position as His daughter. A new creation in Christ.

He sings me a song. Sends me a friend. Shows me a verse. He is invisible yet omnipresent in my life. In my life's story.

He was my beginning and someday will meet me, arms wide open, to welcome me into the end of this time and a new beginning. Restored to the place I have to remind myself I am already a citizen of...His Kingdom.

All around me now are people who remind me of my roots. They are deep and wide and long now. So many years ago they allowed me to fall back into the world. At times, I bend in the winds of the world still, but my roots keep me from being pulled from where I stand. Positioned for battle. Clothed in the full armor. Protected by truth, salvation, His word, righteousness, and standing firm in who I am. For I am in Him just as He is in me.

I am His rescued child brought to His right hand. Reminded of my position and inheritance. Pulled into His lap and loved beyond anything I have ever imagined. Beloved...


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