It is the promise that though there will be storms, hardships, trials, persecutions, and disasters – though the world as it was known has been changed forever – the promise of God’s presence, God’s love, God’s care, and God’s companionship on the journey will not change.
Reflecting on those moments, I think I experienced what some call the “already-not yet,” the wonderful truth and the hard heartache of the Easter season.
Our God is a God that loves to burst forth. God created flowers that burst forth from buds, butterflies that burst forth from cocoons, and dogs that burst forth from open doors to run around the yard at the end of a long day.
God does the same thing for us in our storms today. Even when the waters are rising, we each have a place in our lives, given to us by God, which keeps us safe and dry through whatever is thrown our way.
Life is hard. Loss is part of it. Pain is part of it. But: the one who watches over us neither slumbers nor sleeps, and we are not alone. The psalmist certainly knew that sometimes it's important to look back at where we've been and what we've been through, so that we can see how God has "brought us out into a spacious place."
We are less free than we think we are. When our worship liturgies ask God to save us from sin’s slavery, it is not just a personal prayer. It is a social, national, global prayer.