SGLY: In search of comfort
There is a chair that I sit on each morning — a wooden chair with a rich brown stain that showcases the grain and texture. The back is high, supporting my neck as I rest against its curve.
The most decorative thing about this chair is the pillow on the seat, and even that is simple by most standards — colorful flowers upon a cream background. I am not sure how this particular pillow became my chair cushion, but it has been there longer than my routine. Cozier than the cushion is the homemade emerald afghan that I reposition on the back of the chair after covering my legs while having my first cup of coffee.
Many would say there is nothing special about this chair; after all, there are many things in this life that offer stability and security. What makes this chair special to me is that it is my chair: I trust it, and in this trust, it brings me comfort. And in search of comfort, I return to it again and again.
No matter how well I slept the night before, how lively or lowly my attitude, or to what degree my muscles are aching, I know this chair will still support me — it is not dependent upon me to be a chair. It will remain a chair regardless of how often I visit it, how many ways I adorn it, or whom I share it with.
On a greater scale, God is my resting place. He is familiar, peaceful, and welcoming. God is not dependent upon me to be God. He exists regardless of the level at which I choose to acknowledge Him. God is in love with me whether I worship Him in a pew or in prison, in the company of humbled saints or calloused sinners. God’s dependability is not dependent upon my level of scripture memorization, my connections in town, the size of the cross necklace around my neck, or the width of my smile. God desires my company regardless of the quality of my day, my thoughts, my actions, or my heart.
On my best days God supports me just as faithfully as He does on my worst.
Some may say that there is nothing really special about God — that He is fabricated to explain the unknown and to offer seekers a false sense of peace. To this, I profess a simple truth: the peace God gives is unrivaled to anything this world can provide. Once you experience it, all else is simply decoration. You can live your life being a good person and telling yourself this is your best life. Still, regardless of your likeability, you will never experience enduring peace and love until you have fully rested in the presence of God — until you have given yourself to the routine of surrender, returning to Him again and again.
In my chair, I sip coffee and read passages from His Word. Some mornings, I am more in tune with what I am reading than others, but I know God keeps me secure in Him despite my drifting.
God upholds me. (Isaiah 41:10)
God gives me peace. (John 14:27)
God gives me rest. (Matthew 11:28-30)
God hears me. (2 Samuel 22:7)
God fights for me. (Exodus 14:14)
God is my refuge and strength. (Psalm 46: 1-3)
God sustains me. (Psalm 55:22)
God gives me hope. (Jeremiah 29:11)
May we look at our patterns this week, challenging ourselves to see who and what we depend upon in our search for comfort. Are we using crutches (poor habits, views of others, self-justifications) where we should be trusting, leaning and resting upon God?
SGLY, dear reader.
(Smile, God Loves You.)
Tiffany Kaye Chartier is a Christian author and opinion columnist. Submit feedback and connect for more soul lifts on Facebook: Tiffany Kaye Chartier; Instagram:@tiffanysgly; and Twitter: @tiffanychartier. The views and opinions expressed here are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect those of Texoma Marketing and Media Group.