“The Lord is my light and my rescue, whom shall I fear?” —Psalm 27:1
Christ doesn’t ask you to brace for every threat. He calls you to face Him, trust Him, and let Him do the work. —D.
+ + +
Christ doesn’t call you to stand guard, throwing your fists at every creeping thing. He calls you to lift your eyes to Him, to walk forward into His vast, unyielding mercy. He knows you’re no iron fortress; He knows how easily you shiver when the world gets close. But He doesn’t want you snarling and swatting at every passing fear. He calls you to let it go. He isn’t asking for toughness. He’s asking for trust.
When the accuser steps in with his old tricks, Christ doesn’t hand you a sword and say, “Fight until you’re spent.” He says, “Come to Me.” Don’t waste your breath arguing with the lies. Let them fall flat and turn instead to what holds firm. Say the name of Jesus. Ask for His mercy. That simple cry clears the air like a strong wind through a stale room. He fills what’s empty. He steadies what’s weak. He quiets the churn inside your chest.
You don’t need to plug every hole or stack stones around your heart. Christ isn’t just building a fortress. He’s making a home. He fills you with His Spirit until there’s no space left for fear to settle. His mercy doesn’t just hold the line, it pushes through, taking ground, clearing out what doesn’t belong. And in the end, it’s not your grit that wins the day, it’s His grace that finds you, holds you, and keeps you standing.