I suddenly find that I'm standing on a bleak grassy plain. A storm is blowing in. The bitter wind whips around me as I look up to see the looming clouds approaching in the distance. I glance to the left seeing my fortress, and my heart longs to run to it. To cling to it as I have done before, but the thing is, there are no doors for me to enter... just tall, impenetrable walls and wistful hopes that I will be allowed in somehow, some way. But I know when the tempest arrives, I will be exposed to the elements, on my own, still clinging to the side of this shelter as if it has something to offer. A situation obviously not ideal, but enticing whispers call me to its side, so I run to it with quixotic hopes that this is right. I'll be alright because if I cling to it enough, it will become my shelter and I will eventually be allowed to enter.A chilled raindrop stings my cheek and brings me out of my introversion. I look up to see the ominous clouds now overhead. Realization hits me; my shelter is going to be taken away from me. The storm is coming to take it away. No! It is my shelter! I've invested so much into this shelter. It cannot be taken away! "God!" my heart cries, "Why must this happen?" Doesn't He know how much this will hurt if the storm wins in driving my shelter away from me?! He does... He knows how much this will hurt. He doesn't want that for me. I hear His voice quietly beckoning me to come to His shelter where I should have stayed. I slowly let loose my grip as I turn to find the source of the familiar small voice. Suddenly, menacing bolts of jagged lightning flash above me as thunder snarls in response; a fierce reminder of the storm's purpose. The shelter...it's going to be gone soon. I throw myself against its side again, still finding no purchase. I can't let go. I'm not ready for it.
I wait for His admonishment, but my ears are met with silence. Nothing is said. Slowly seeping through my dread-filled anxiety, I feel His longing for me. No words reach my ears, but every fiber of my being can feel Him reaching for me to rescue me from my predicament. I've gotten myself in this place, yet He still reaches for me regardless of my actions and where they have led me. I know that if I just turn around to Him, I will find my haven where I am safest. But in my selfishness, I want to cling to that which isn't mine. I am faced with a choice: I either wait for the storm to separate me from this shelter, leaving me alone on the barren land to weather the storm or I can run. I can run to my True Shelter, but that requires me to let go. The bare spattering of taunting raindrops rapidly multiplies, as if to rush my decision by chilling me to the bone. I just don't know if I can let go.
