Just before bed last night, my husband was quickly checking the news  online and exclaimed to me: "There's been a tsunami in Japan!"
We watched in horrified silence at some raw footage posted by a BBC  informant that had been uploaded a very short time after the tsunami  hit.  Cars were floating in a bloated river of water that was filled  with the debris of decimated homes and shops.  Large apartment complexes  were engulfed in flames.  Another tragedy, to be added to a long list  of this decade's tragedies.
Since my husband and I were married, close to 13 years ago, we have  witnessed a lot of catastrophes together.  I clearly remember the  morning of 9/11, just as millions of other people could tell you exactly  where they were and what they were doing when they first heard the  news.
I was a week overdue with my second baby.  Dan had felt quite ill that  morning, and stayed home from his office job in downtown Calgary.  I was  about to turn on the morning children's shows on PBS for our nearly 2  year old daughter, when I saw the horrifying scene on TV.
I remember sitting with my husband, thinking - it could have been us!   What makes us so different from those people?  I thought it ironic that  he had stayed home from his own downtown, high-rise office job when we  were watching a high-rise office building plummet to the ground.
Seeing humans come against tragic events makes you feel small and  frail.  It is a sobering thought to know that with all of our technology  and money and power and influence, we are unable to stop the force of  nature.
We are weak, we are human.   We all desire the same sense of security.
Back in my teen years, I sought security outside, running wooded paths  whether it be rainy or cold.  I would run hard and long, until my  muscles burned and my feelings seemed to be released in the exertion. 
Sometimes feeling secure is found in the company of a loved one -  knowing that you have someone beside you who might not be able to make  it better, but they won't leave you on your own.
The security I find in God is usually grasped in a quiet, still  silence.  I am alone, but not alone.  My heart is aching, but I know  that Someone hears my silent cry.
For some reason I often hesitate to go to God when I'm feeling  overwhelmed.  I *know* He is the first place I should run to when  there's trouble and hurt and stress in my life, but I'd rather slog my  way though with self-pity or, go in a completely different direction and  become the martyr and glutton for punishment, than give it all up to  Him.    Whether you choose to give up (not looking for help from God) or  choose to grit your teeth and just be strong when the storms of life  come,  both responses are lacking and won't keep you going  indefinitely.  We all come to the end of ourselves at one time or  another.
When I come to my senses, and remember to look to the ultimate Helper, I  am not disappointed.  When is the last time you ran to Him with your  concerns?  When the going gets tough, how do you usually respond? 
Jesus told us that this world would be a tough place to exist in.  Even  as a Christian, you can attempt to forage through life on your own, with  occasional acknowledgment of God's involvement in your life.  This  isn't what was offered to us in our faith walk, however.  He promises to  never leave us or forsake us - even if you mess up. (Hebrews 13:5,6, 2  Timothy 2:13)
I am constantly strengthened and encouraged by Jesus' words to us in Matthew 11:28-30.
Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.      Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.      For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.
If we are willing to submit to Him and do things His way, there is rest  for our souls.  Knowing that there is a God who has a better perspective  and handle on things is comforting. 
I will run to Him.
    His huge outstretched arms protect you -  under them you're perfectly safe; his arms fend off all harm.     -Psalm 91:4 (The Message)
 
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