This morning the above words from Psalm 121 fairly leapt out at me, the image so clear that I glanced immediately to my right to see the shade; I almost thought I could. Often what I read in the morning is gone by mid-day, but now, three hours later, I am still thinking, seeing, breathing the certainty that the Psalmist put those words down for me, for me.
If my God is shading me, he is not very far away at all. In fact, he is right here beside me, ready to catch me if I fall, ready to protect me, ready to give me comfort, ready, with the touch of his hand, to keep me from saying something hurtful. His presence here, with me, for always. It’s another of those thin places in my day: when the reality of the limitless nudges, even pushes over on its heels, my own flawed vision of the same. Move over, child: here comes the actual, the powerful, the loving, the eternal.
This is Sunday: don’t you need a little God-breathed thin place?