Devotion Read Online Free
vulnerability: the need to share her love with Kellen and their children.
Please, Lord. This time?
As fast and potent as the plea dawned, however, Juliet pushed it to the side. Out of necessity, the practice of rebuke and refusal became another ingrained part of her monthly routine. There was no other choice for them but to soldier on as best they could and ignore the gentle, well-meaning barbs from friends and family members, the endless questions about when, and if, they would ever have children…
My plans for you are greater than the storms that come, Juliet. Rest in My hands.
The words filled her, as strong and real as any that could be spoken aloud. Juliet went still beneath the strong jet of water, listening, praying for even more from the powerful, compelling voice that slid through her soul—the voice that she knew came straight from God.
She had always believed in the truth of God calling her by name, and in ways that were specific to whatever was going on in her life—be they good or bad. He was always there—but she felt called to prayer in an even stronger way today. All at once, she longed for intensive, focused time with God.
Juliet didn’t have much on the agenda this morning, so she dried her hair into a wavy tumble. Black jeans and a dark green turtleneck sweater completed a casual and comfortable ensemble. She trotted down the stairs, galvanized by the scent of fresh brewed coffee. The aroma provided yet another reminder of her husband’s thoughtfulness. He was always the first one out the door, so he always made sure a new pot was in place for them both.
Juliet stopped in the family room before settling in for breakfast. She picked up her Bible from an end table between the two leather easy chairs she and Kellen usually occupied and carried it with her to the kitchen. There, a teak dinette with matching chairs was tucked into the cheery space created by a spacious bay window. Sunlight burnished the room. Juliet set her Bible by the chair closest to the window and prepared herself a breakfast of maple and cinnamon oatmeal, some coffee, and an English muffin. She added a small box of raisins to the oatmeal mix, and then settled in to eat.
But before she took a bite, before she even opened her Bible, Juliet bowed her head and folded her hands in her lap. Quietly centered, she went lax and offered up a prayer to welcome in the day, and leave its progression in the hands of the Savior she loved.
Fear not, Juliet. I am with you. I am your God. I will strengthen you. I will uphold you with my right hand.
Juliet lifted her head with a hard, startled blink. Her contentment burned away when her heart rate increased. The summons, she knew, came from Isaiah 41:10, but the resounding power of it flowed through her like an alert—a warning that ate away at her soothing mood.
She coupled this interlude with the words she had claimed in the shower, and for some reason, an icy sense of foreboding skated fast and smooth down the length of her spine. What was God trying to tell her, exactly? Why did the words resound like something ominous—a promise of shelter in a storm—rather than the assurance of His grace that she sought?
This had to be about her desire for children, right? The shiver of unease she felt stemmed from an understandable anxiety about the desire of her heart, that’s all.
She and Kellen had a relationship founded on solid rock—Christ’s love, and a passion for one another that remained both ordained, and beautiful. Thus bolstered, Juliet returned to breakfast and her morning devotions.
3
The night spent in Juliet’s arms nearly purged Kellen’s mind of the specter of Chloe Havermill. This morning he had come awake in typical fashion, spooned against his wife, his arm draped at a loose, comfortable angle against her waist. Chloe crossed his mind upon leaving the house, but only in a fleeting way that was business centered and easily dismissed.
Allowing for
Please, Lord. This time?
As fast and potent as the plea dawned, however, Juliet pushed it to the side. Out of necessity, the practice of rebuke and refusal became another ingrained part of her monthly routine. There was no other choice for them but to soldier on as best they could and ignore the gentle, well-meaning barbs from friends and family members, the endless questions about when, and if, they would ever have children…
My plans for you are greater than the storms that come, Juliet. Rest in My hands.
The words filled her, as strong and real as any that could be spoken aloud. Juliet went still beneath the strong jet of water, listening, praying for even more from the powerful, compelling voice that slid through her soul—the voice that she knew came straight from God.
She had always believed in the truth of God calling her by name, and in ways that were specific to whatever was going on in her life—be they good or bad. He was always there—but she felt called to prayer in an even stronger way today. All at once, she longed for intensive, focused time with God.
Juliet didn’t have much on the agenda this morning, so she dried her hair into a wavy tumble. Black jeans and a dark green turtleneck sweater completed a casual and comfortable ensemble. She trotted down the stairs, galvanized by the scent of fresh brewed coffee. The aroma provided yet another reminder of her husband’s thoughtfulness. He was always the first one out the door, so he always made sure a new pot was in place for them both.
Juliet stopped in the family room before settling in for breakfast. She picked up her Bible from an end table between the two leather easy chairs she and Kellen usually occupied and carried it with her to the kitchen. There, a teak dinette with matching chairs was tucked into the cheery space created by a spacious bay window. Sunlight burnished the room. Juliet set her Bible by the chair closest to the window and prepared herself a breakfast of maple and cinnamon oatmeal, some coffee, and an English muffin. She added a small box of raisins to the oatmeal mix, and then settled in to eat.
But before she took a bite, before she even opened her Bible, Juliet bowed her head and folded her hands in her lap. Quietly centered, she went lax and offered up a prayer to welcome in the day, and leave its progression in the hands of the Savior she loved.
Fear not, Juliet. I am with you. I am your God. I will strengthen you. I will uphold you with my right hand.
Juliet lifted her head with a hard, startled blink. Her contentment burned away when her heart rate increased. The summons, she knew, came from Isaiah 41:10, but the resounding power of it flowed through her like an alert—a warning that ate away at her soothing mood.
She coupled this interlude with the words she had claimed in the shower, and for some reason, an icy sense of foreboding skated fast and smooth down the length of her spine. What was God trying to tell her, exactly? Why did the words resound like something ominous—a promise of shelter in a storm—rather than the assurance of His grace that she sought?
This had to be about her desire for children, right? The shiver of unease she felt stemmed from an understandable anxiety about the desire of her heart, that’s all.
She and Kellen had a relationship founded on solid rock—Christ’s love, and a passion for one another that remained both ordained, and beautiful. Thus bolstered, Juliet returned to breakfast and her morning devotions.
3
The night spent in Juliet’s arms nearly purged Kellen’s mind of the specter of Chloe Havermill. This morning he had come awake in typical fashion, spooned against his wife, his arm draped at a loose, comfortable angle against her waist. Chloe crossed his mind upon leaving the house, but only in a fleeting way that was business centered and easily dismissed.
Allowing for
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