New Series: Spiritual Practices - The Safe Place to be Held by the Father

This week we are looking at a spiritual prayer practice called “The Safe Place.” You imagine a safe place – maybe it is a place from your past that you loved, that gave you peace and a sense of being who you were. A beach, a forest, a park bench, a kitchen, etc. It can also be a place that you imagine that you have never been. You go to this place with whatever is going on. You use all your senses to imagine yourself there. You welcome Jesus into this Safe Place and allow your time with Him to unfold. You might end up in a conversation with Him, you might just sense His presence in a way that you need. When you welcome Him, He will come just as you need Him to. Trust this. And don’t worry about using your imagination – God created you with it and Jesus often invited people to use their imaginations as He taught them in parables.

I am going to share some experiences from a Safe Place. This place is a daisy field and it has a path that grows through it into a little clearing that the daisies surround.

Day One: In The Safe Place to be Held by the Father

Jesus asked her if she wanted the Father to be in the daisy field clearing. She gave forth a timid yes. Jesus took her little-girl hand in His and walked her down the path. She told Jesus that she had always wished that her dad would have just held her. She felt a little guilty about the criticism this seemed to expose but Jesus just understood. She knew deep inside that He loved her dad too and understood him. It was a lovely, gentle feeling that relieved her little conscience.

She asked Jesus if the Father was kind. He smiled at her and said, “very.”

“Like you?”

“Just like me.”

Her fear subsided in the thought of the Father this way.

An old, gentle man with soft lines around his face, dressed in the most regular of clothes, opened a door where the clearing had never had one. She was surprised at the door and liked the man right away.

There was a couch that encircled the whole clearing. She walked and jumped on it and the father followed, chuckling. All the way around they went. The sound of his chuckle somehow gave her a sense that he delighted in her. What to do with such a thought!

They sat down beside each other and the father said, “So you wish you could be held by a father?” She nodded and studied his expression. “What does he think of that?”, she wondered.

His face became even softer; the softness went right inside of her, reaching her young heart and the longing tucked away so hidden. Leaning sideways against her body, he offered, “I would love to hold you.”

She climbed into his arms and felt the gentle strength around her. He whispered with pure intimacy into her ear, “You are my honey bee.”

She sighed, letting go of a false shame around her busyness for people often thought of her as a busy bee. Indeed, she thought this of herself as well – because she often let other people tell her who she was.

She thought, “Not a busy bee?”

He answered, “Oh no, not a busy bee, a honey bee, gathering sweetness.”

She let him hold her for a long time, allowing his loving thoughts about her to heal and comfort. Her father loved to hold her and he called her his honey bee. Who would want to rush away from such a place?

Photo by Julia Margeth Theuer-Unsplash

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