There are moments—quiet ones, shaky ones—when life just doesn’t make sense. The kind of moments that make your chest tighten and your thoughts race. Fear creeps in, the world spins too fast, and suddenly, everything feels too heavy to carry.
But even in those moments, I’ve come to know something deeply sweet and sacred: I’m not alone.
When the ground beneath me shifts, I’ve learned where to run. Not just to a temporary distraction or a fleeting comfort—but to Someone steady. Someone sure.
He doesn’t just offer protection; He is protection. He doesn’t just bring peace; He is peace. He’s not just any Savior—He’s my Savior.
I picture it like this: I’m standing in the middle of a storm, soaked, overwhelmed, and unsure. And then I see it—this towering refuge, unmoved by the chaos around me. I run. I don’t look back. I just run straight into the shelter that never crumbles.
“The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous run to it and are safe.” — Proverbs 18:10
That verse doesn’t feel like poetry to me—it feels like home. Because every time I’ve run to Him, He’s been there. No hesitation. No judgment. Just open arms.
He’s never said, “That’s too much.”
He’s never turned me away.
He’s never failed.
So in the fear, in the unknown, in every single unraveling moment—I run. Not just toward hope, but toward Him.
Because I don’t just believe in a Savior.
I know my Savior
