I am parked on the loveseat up in my bedroom with the fireplace glowing before me.
The loveseat is two cushions wide, and there is plenty of space for me here, alone. But I’m not alone. I’m wedged on it with both of my 70 pound rescue dogs. Somehow, though I was here first, the pit bull has snagged almost half the space. The hound is in the gap between me and the armrest, his head strewn over my knee, one paw by my stomach, the rest pressing into my kidney.
Together, we make up a ball of resting warmth.
And that’s why I let them up; I am parked here for rest and warmth. But my needs go beyond those a dog could ever fulfill. I’m also here for some moments with my Savior, to learn a few more verses of Psalm 103, which I’m on a mission to memorize.
Bless the Lord, soul of mine. Bless his holy name.
The words are a loveseat for my soul. There was plenty of space for me here alone, but internalizing these passages, I find myself warmed and crowded by the promises and presence of the larger-than-life God.
He crowns you with steadfast love and mercy.