Furnish My Dwelling Place

by Victoria Gaines
Published September 18, 2006

“Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations" (Psalm 90:1).

The writings of Hannah Whitall Smith bless me. Particularly her little book entitled, Living Confidently. It’s good to refresh our minds with truth, and so this nugget strikes home: “The comfort or discomfort of our inward life depends upon the dwelling place of our souls." Am I a pit-dweller or a peace-dweller? Sometimes it feels like the bottom of life has fallen out. That’s when I have to remember that One greater than all my circumstances has things under His control. Smith reminds me: "Inward comfort is of far greater importance than outward comfort. Where the soul is full of peace and joy, outward surroundings are of comparatively little importance."

Are you facing difficulties? Has discouragement pulled you into a pit of despair? Maybe finances are unbearably tight, or someone wounded you deeply. Life can frazzle the toughest nerve. Be careful lest your disappointment leads to bitterness, though, for bitterness leads to pit-dwelling. And pit-dwellers refuse to see the goodness of God. Yet God waits to meet our deepest needs, to provide His quiet place of refuge. In our most desperate hour, when we look to Jesus, He lifts our heart above the fray. Come out of the pit. As you read these words, God is reading your heart. He knows your unspoken need, your doubts, your fears. "For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle and set me high upon a rock" (Psalm 27: 5).

I’ve sometimes veered off God’s path and lost my peace. But you know what? If we take a thousand steps away from Him, it’s just one step to turn back. Christ furnishes my soul with peace. In Him I dwell. Maybe we have to grow faint from our own weakness before we’ll cry out. Whatever it takes, difficulties can teach us to stick closer to Him, so that the very perils we face become our deepest blessings. For example, God knew the exact hour the darkness of depression would enfold me. But through it, the door to my dwelling place was "standing wide open," as Hannah Whitall Smith writes. The choice is mine. Will I dwell in the pit—or with Him? Through the bleakest of times, His soft, gentle reminder speaks to my heart: "Remain in me, and I will remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me." (John 15:4-7). I can’t "go it alone." I need Christ.

Different things may cause depression, but depression eventually leads to a sense of hopelessness. My mind has suffered full-blown attacks from the enemy of my soul: "You ARE hopeless--you can't even raise your head off the pillow this morning.” But I know who IS the Lifter of my Head, and my silent cries reach His heart immediately. He not only hears my cry, He enables me to get up, thank Him for His mercies new every morning, and press on--one step at a time. This is grace. Never despise small steps. Baby steps of faith have been demonstrations of His invisible grace during times I couldn’t face another day. Remember, my friend, whatever the Lord brings us to, He will also bring us through, because "Underneath are the everlasting arms" (Deuteronomy 33:27).

How do we get to this “dwelling place” of His? First, we must be His. Then, we just move in! We move in by faith. "Faith reads the Word of God and believes that it is true. Christ says, 'abide.' We must answer, 'I will abide,'" writes Hannah Whitall Smith. We just take Him at His word and believe that what He says is true. Underneath ARE the Everlasting Arms. Believe it. Take a baby step. Let Him catch you when you fall. Trust Him. The outcomes of this life are His to worry about. Our part is to believe.

Dear sister in Christ, believe with me: Jesus Christ is now my Dwelling Place, and no earthly storm can destroy this peace I have in Him.

“He brought them out of darkness and the deepest gloom and broke away their chains” (Psalm 107: 14).

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