Rereading my last post, I am reminded that I so easily drift off into a very small place. A place that is narrow and cramped and stifling. My last post was a reminder that toxic thinking puts me in that small space.

Today, I wanted to share with you a Scripture that has long meant something to me, a word to combat small living, cramped quarters. A few lines that can restore a bit of breathing room in our lives, if we’ll let them in:

But me he caught—reached all the way from sky to sea; he pulled me out 
of that ocean of hate, that enemy chaos,
 the void in which I was drowning. 
They hit me when I was down, but God stuck by me.
 He stood me up on a wide-open field; I stood there saved—surprised to be loved! (Psalm 18:16-19, The Message)

Other translations of this same verse use the following phrases for Peterson’s paraphrase “wide-open field” . . .

A place of safety

A large place

An expanse

A broad place

A wide-open place

A spacious place

I’d like to live every minute of my life in the spacious place. Turns out, I’m only human. I can’t do it all perfectly. I can’t will myself back there in my own strength.

My life is this Psalm 18 story. Me being pulled out of a sea of self-contempt, of emotional swirling (the void in which I was drowning) and being stood up in a spacious place, a wide-open field, a broad grace. It is the story of salvation, of love, of God sticking by me (even when I’m completely crazy).

When I was in high school, I had to do a report on a disease for Miss Wagner’s anatomy class. I chose asthma because I’ve had asthma since I was a toddler. For the oral report, I passed out coffee stirrer straws and had everyone try and breathe through the tiny opening. This was supposed to mimic the feeling of an asthma attack—the struggle of pushing and pulling air.

I look back at myself last week. Mostly a mess. Mostly scared. Mostly living life as though I was breathing through the coffee stirrer straw. Emotionally asthmatic.

Most of all, I see that “me he caught . . . reached all the way down . . . pulled me out . . . stuck by me . . . stood me up.”

Not once and for all (wouldn’t that be so convenient if we could just graduate from all this difficulty?). This is what God does for us every single day if we will reach up to him.

May we all step out of our small living today, our coffee-stirrer-straw existence of fear and shame, and choose to accept his invitation into broad grace.

Here I am, yet again, God, grateful you haven’t sent me down the river. Grateful you are willing to reach down and pull me out. I’m reaching up to you. Today. Amen.