1 Corinthians 10:13; 2 Peter 2:9; Psalm 27

When facing the wiles of the flesh,
When lured in with its biting teeth,
When running towards the deliciously bitter lie, 
What a surprise it was
To find You were already running towards me.

Sometimes I feel alone in the fight— 
If I am totally honest—
It feels like Your expectation is given,
Then You sit back in Your grand rocker
And wait to see what happens.

Sometimes it feels like a cosmic game
A strategic chess match where my wits,
And my pathetically placed pawns,
Are all that stands between me—
And checkmate.

Though my head tells me otherwise, 
And Your word validates the truth—
That You are my strength,
My fortress, my protection, my escape
The practical everyday feels like a misfire.

And yet—You show up.
Everyday and in every way.
The perception of Your presence, or the lack thereof
Is not the problem.
My vision is.

When I fail to see You—
To see where You run to me in trouble,
To see where You are already there,
Before trouble even reaches me—
It is my failure to see by faith.

You know of the temptation 
Before it comes.
You know of the trial
Before it commences.
And You are already running to my side.

So, give me the eyes to see
That You are running to me.
Give me faith to believe 
And the confidence to cling to the truth—
You are here before I even know there’s a problem.

Let me rest in that glorious truth—
When temptation slinks in seductively,
Or when trial rages in roaring and angry—
You are the refuge that never fails.
You run to me.