​98. Like a Layered Onion

My husband doesn’t panic.

If he was on a plane nose-diving towards earth, he’d think to himself, “Well, this most likely won’t end well,” and then extend his seat back to get a little more comfortable.

With all that’s going on in the world, God has been using him to keep me focused.

My heart can get fearful. I’m not always the bravest of people. Looking at my history, I mostly tend to stand up to teenagers and Best Buy employees with bad attitudes.

Not necessarily anyone threatening my life and the ones that I love.

But watching my husband, who’s nothing if not cool and calculated in his thinking, I’ve learned a thing or two about discerning the world’s noise and turning back to the only one who can silence it: Jesus.

In these hard moments, when the world is peeled back like a layered onion, my heart is always with the ones who don’t believe. How can your soul feel comforted if it doesn’t know the One who made it?

I guess that’s why I write with steely resolve, with a heart and mind focused on the One who’s penned the end to this world’s misery, and keep my feet walking in faith.

Because if we who believe refuse to be the light, who will?