FLED FOR REFUGE

A loving shelter from the storm

Hebrews 6:18-19 " that by two immutable things, in which it was impossible for God to lie, we might have a strong consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us; which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and entered into that within the veil..."

I can sometimes be alone in a crowd.

In the dancing days of my youth, I perfected this practice by being wrapped in the music and the beat, listening with and listening to my body, not focused on others.

There can be different kinds of refuge...solitary refuge, alone in a crowd refuge, shelter in an emotional or physical storm refuge and the refuge of communion with our Creator. I have had the immense privilege of more deeply getting to know my Heavenly Father for the last several years, and what an astounding, anchoring and humbling experience it has been. God meets us where we are at any given moment and leads us gently, step by step, in the repentance and refining process. We do not travel this road alone.

God is not "out in outer space", even though He created outer space! He is surprisingly approachable, all the while drawing my awe and profound respect and deference. I treat Him with great reverence...because He actually acts on my behalf, not as a control freak but as the deeply loving and guiding Father I never had.

My own earthly Dad did not mistreat me, he provided for me...but he did not really want children, two sons and a daughter. When he he was filing for divorce, he thought he would soon be free of wife and kid impediments and then wife suddenly dies overnight and he is stuck with a grieving 14 year old daughter (my brothers were older and out of the house.) He used to sardonically comment to me, years later, "you basically raised yourself through high school." That certainly reflects my independent spirit. While I was a teenager amidst the chaos of the cultural and social revolution and Vietnam War of the 1960’s and I did not do a great job of "raising myself", I did survive...an agnostic to my Christian faith, a cynic and a serious loner. I obviously returned to God, from my Prodigal years…and how grateful I am to be back in the Household of God!

My Papa God is the polar opposite of my earthly Dad! He not only created me, He gave me gifts and actually seems to enjoy my company, even in the "sea of bits.” In fact, as I labor over this writing piece, a typical Thursday night of final preparation before I present my weekly writing on Substack on Friday evenings, I am awash in my sea of paper: notes, ideas, scribbled thoughts and temperaments, trying to read my own handwriting...ARGH! This is my "sea of bits."

Why, oh why would Papa, the Creator, want to see MY mess?? I do not understand…but He just keeps showing up, over and over and over...amidst my imperfection and no Dior garment to impress with! At least I'm clean from the shower...

I remain a classic "odd duck", one who simply does not resonate with the vast majority of the world. In the past, I have taken " refuge" in drugs, sex, mysticism, rebellion, sarcasm, cynicism, metaphysics, and strangely enough, in the realm of despair! Who in the universe would consider "despair" to be a refuge??? Ruefully, sadly, that would be me, taking "refuge" in despair. I do not recommend it.

Please note that this is not logical or rational thinking.

When I lived in San Francisco for 31 years (SF proper until Summer 2011 and close in SF Bay area until 2016,) it was a vibrant, beautiful, and yet sometimes irrational and thoroughly unbalanced place that I loved and fit right in! That was the part that drew me and my rowdy friends there in August 1979. The emotional and irrational seems a part of the city "code." That code includes: " Thou shalt argue vociferously, night and day, and allow no breach of the required patina of acceding to the inner code of self-righteousness." No "refusal" was considered.

I base this "take" DIRECTLY on my own very intense survival behavior. I was certain no arguments against this survival code were allowed. A kind of "refuge" was mine and I held fast to it.

Alas, the rest of the world outside the two main bridges of San Francisco proper, begged to differ. I was driven out by the cost of living and God's hands of direction were on me, even if I did not fully realize it at the time.

Guess where I ended up in my Elder age?? Far to the north of San Francisco and into the "hinterland of sticks", back to my roots of hard-headed, Oregon-like reality. After 31 years in San Francisco, four 1/2 years of close-in SF Bay Area and Seattle for four years, big city life left me and the country life drew me back.

I have fled...directly into Papa's loving arms...to His supporting embrace that won't turn away from my wrongness and disorder and more failures than I can count. There is no fearful stick of condemnation that shakes over my disrepute.

There is RELENTLESS pursuit of my broken heart and my desire to go Home and be done with the defeat of the material realm, a place I do not do well in.

Welcome to my mess... I have fled for refuge into Your arms, Papa...and shelter from the storms of my sometimes irrational emotions. Your beloved Son Jesus Christ also gives me refuge and will be welcoming me Home when You draw me there. It is the goodness of God that draws me to repentance...and the rest of us as well!

Peace You give this weary warrior...and profound thanks from Wendy.

Wendy Elizabeth Williams, Friday, May 9, 2025

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