The name of the Lord is a strong tower;
the righteous run to it and are safe.
My firstborn’s safe place was my lap, with two fingers of his right hand in his mouth and his left hand clutching the corner of a frayed security blanket, reduced-by-wear to the size of a dish towel. “Tranquility” could have been tattooed on his forehead.
Your adult safe place may be your home. You walk through the door, slip off your jacket, kick off your shoes, and collapse in your familiar recliner. Home sweet home.
There are times when we need more; seasons when we come face-to-face with fear, and know that the safe place we need isn’t a place; it’s a person. “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble” (Ps 46:1). “My God is my rock. I can run to him for safety” (2 Sm 22:3).
God is your safe place
and the door is always open.