While other kids were innocently playing hide and seek in their backyards, she learned how to become invisible in her bedroom. His drunken voice was all the motivation she needed; as soon as she heard it, she grabbed her younger sisters and quickly crouched with them behind the door of her closet. "Please God, don't let him see us," she whispered. "Hide us, God. Don't let him see us. Please." She heard him calling out again, felt the heaviness of his staggering footsteps getting closer and closer. Instinctively she tightened her arms around the little girls who clung to her, shushing them softly one last time before his hand turned the knob on the door.
"Where are you, you little...you better answer me!" he roared. "I know you're around here somewhere!" Then he flung open the door and cursed as he stood searching the darkness through half-shut eyes. Blinking, trying to focus and then stumbling, almost losing his balance completely, he finally shook his head. "You no good...make me hunt you down, will you?" He started to retreat. "Wait 'til I get my hands on you!" His angry threats turned into confused mutterings as he made his way back down the hall.
She heard him fall onto his bed, but didn't dare move until he was snoring. "Oh, thank you, God, thank you, thank you, thank you! He looked right at us and didn't see us! You did hide us, you did!" She tiptoed on the outside but danced and leaped high on the inside, praising her Father.
In her closet, this young girl found out Who she can trust.
Now the years have passed and she's caring for her own small children. She finds herself needing closet time again, not to avoid physical abuse, thank God, but facing enormous challenges that would wear most people completely down. Her once-successful-husband now struggles with huge, self-inflicted problems she never dreamed would enter their house; problems she doesn't want the kids to see. He calls again to say he won't be bringing over the promised rent money. Eight months pregnant, she walks to work, tired of asking favors of her friends; the car she'd leased for several years had to be surrendered. In her prayer closet she cries out, settles herself and listens with a thankful heart.
Time after time her rent money has come just in time from totally unexpected places. She gratefully says it was God who provided it.
A young couple in prayer were impressed to give her a vehicle that's good and safe and big enough for her and the kids. She gives God the glory for it.
This young woman stays close to the One she can trust.
The Word says we're each given a measure of faith. It's easy to think my friend has more faith than ordinary people, judging by the way her very real needs have been met supernaturally. I don't think God gave her more faith because He's no respecter of persons. I think she has learned what to do with the measure of faith she's been given. And surely she learned that while sitting at His feet.
Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty. This I declare about the Lord: "He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; he is my God, and I trust in him." Psalm 91:1 & 2 NLT
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