During my recent trip to Canada, I kept finding myself in places that appeared to be “the end of earth.” On more than one occasion, I walked a desolate beach and wondered why life had taken such difficult turns over the past few months. It was obvious that God had allowed me to face enormous losses and stresses that could rob even the strongest person of a degree of his or her faith. So, it was probably only natural I began to wonder: “Lord, am I running away from You like Jonah, or am I running to You?
Then one evening as I stepped out onto this beach on Pelee Island to take this photo, David’s words of comfort and assurance flooded my heart and soul.
Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,”
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
How precious to me are your thoughts, God!
How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand—
when I awake, I am still with you.
—Psalm 139: 7-18