Psalm 16 Reflections: Refuge
Preserve me, O God, for in You I take refuge – Psalm 16:1
Refuge.Something I have longed for over the course of many years. I remember when I first pored over Psalm 62, which says things like, “Trust in Him at all times, oh people; pour out your heart before Him. God is a refuge for us.”I would read and reread that psalm, all the time, during a year when all felt like chaos and challenge. When every month seemed to bring a new challenge, and when I realized that in the depths of my heart I didn’t know if I believed the truth that I knew in my head – that God loved me. And as I wrestled, I landed in the Psalms, and in the Psalms, I landed often in 62. Repeating and re-repeating the words to myself, praying that God would let them be true of me – asking that I might believe, to help my unbelief.And in late August of 2015, as we first entered the world of grief and as I faced loss so directly and so intrinsically connected to me – as I received our unborn son’s diagnosis that we would have less time with him than I ever imagined – I clung to the fact that God was my refuge.And I clung to Psalm 16. If you’re familiar at all with the story of my Jacob, you probably have heard me quote verse 6, “The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed I have a beautiful inheritance.” I spoke it as my heart wanted to keep up and believe it. I knew it to be true somehow, and yet I wrestled with God to show me that it was true.I’ve frequently read Psalm 16 since Jacob’s diagnosis, and each time things have hit me in different ways. But it feels so painful at times to go back and revisit. I have hidden this word in my heart, I often think. And yet, I felt so prompted to respond to the prompts that were given over this month and to share as God would lead me. And so here I am, nearly 16 months after losing Jacob, and quickly approaching the due date of his little sibling who I was to be carrying still, but who we lost due to miscarriage just six months ago.And as I saw the word refuge, my heart sank.Not in a devastation type of way, but in a way to say, I don’t want to sit in this truth, God. This feels hard, to consider again that You are my refuge. So, so good. And so, so hard.Because the instant I considered refuge, the image that popped into my head was that of God, holding me in His hands.
An image that has brought great comfort, peace, and freedom over the past six months. But an image that was shared and given to me out of deep brokenness, and pain, and grief.Shortly after the devastating news in that ultrasound room that our baby didn’t have a heartbeat, I was sitting with my counselor recounting the events in complete numbness and filled with tears.I feel like I’m free-falling, I let out to her.She pressed again – like she had other times we had met previously – What might happen if you let go?Other appointments I had given her a list of fears and reasons why I couldn’t let go.But that day was different.I was so at the end of my rope, feeling the wave crash so fiercely over me, that my answer was simple: I’m ready to see. And I think God has me. I don’t think He’ll let me go. I actually think He’ll still love me.And I believed it.She responded in the most tender of ways – Yes, He will. You haven’t had control all along. You think you have. But He’s holding you in the palm of his Hands. You don’t have to cling on anymore. You can let yourself fall freely. Because you aren’t falling at all. He has you, He’s holding on to you, He won’t let you go. That free fall feeling is actually you letting go of the control you thought you had, but really, He is holding onto you much stronger. Rest in Him.Refuge.True refuge.It was early December as I sat in her office, and my should-be-10-month-old son’s death was so fresh, still, and not only was I about to face Christmas without him, but now also I was facing Christmas without this sweet baby, too. And following Christmas came January, and following January came early February. Early February meant Jacob would have been 1. His birthday. A year of firsts completed.I’ve never felt so low.But I’ve never felt so free.Free to be, free to rest, free to remember that “He will hold me fast” – that it isn’t about me building up a place of rest or refuge, but it’s about me letting go and just embracing the fact that He has embraced me already. I can let go of the control I think I have to hold my life together and to keep a smiling face even when I’m at a loss inside and I can be messy before Him and I can be honest before Him. And He holds on to me. He promises it. And He keeps His promises.This refuge is freedom. This refuge is comfort. This refuge is painful. But, I’m so thankful for this refuge.When all else fades, I’m so thankful that it is He who holds me. And so today, as it feels painful to open my heart to remember the truth of this psalm – this psalm that has brought me such comfort and such peace in the past but also holds the painful emotions of remembering where I was when I first pored over it – I rest in the very first words David writes. “Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge.”God has held me. He is holding me. He will continue to hold me. He is my refuge.
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This post is a response to a prompt to study through Psalm 16 through community called Hope Mommies, which exists to bring the Hope of Jesus to bereaved mothers and families who have lost babies. Each week there is an opportunity to respond to a word or phrase through Psalm 16 - to read more about their ministry or see more reflections, click here.