Forts (God is Our Refuge, Part I)

Forts like this one often spring up mysteriously while am reading aloud to the children.

Fort building is big business around here. My kids build forts inside – under the stairs, on the storage shelves, out of living room furniture, under the dining room table – and outside – under a big maple tree, under drooping cedars, out of the grass clippings, and in the cornfield. (That was one of my favorites. Before the field corn grew too intimidating, each one of my middle children had his or her own space between the stalks. They carefully showed me how to navigate, and where each person’s space was located.) No potential building spot or material is likely to be overlooked. I don’t think a day goes by that they do not build or play in some fort.

I’ve wondered why my kids take such satisfaction out of making forts. Maybe in a large family they just want some place that is their own. Most of the time they build forts near one another, but each one has a small personal space. Still, fort building seems pretty universal with children from all types of families. Forts are a type of refuge – a safe place to retreat to.

This summer our Sunday school class studied Psalm 119, taught wonderfully by Lucas and Pastor Stephen. During one class Pastor Stephen talked about how many times in the Psalms God is referred to as our refuge. Once you start looking you will see this idea (sometimes with different but related words) all over the place. I’ve done a quick study on the words used for refuge. Generally the ideas associated with the Hebrew words are a place of retreat, shelter, protection, and hope, or when used as a verb, to flee for protection, to have hope, to make refuge, to put trust.

In our Sunday School class we talked about how easy it is for us to take refuge in things other than God. I know the things I am most apt to try put my trust in, and (probably more often for me) the things I do to try in vain to escape from difficulties. The Psalms remind us continually, that no matter what is going on around us, our hope is found only in the Lord.

PSALM 46: 1-3
God is our refuge and strength, A very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, Even though the earth be removed, And though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea;
Though its waters roar and be troubled, Though the mountains shake with its swelling. Selah


Rebecca Nugent said…
My mom taught us how to make forts in the living room out of blankets and chairs from the dining room. Fond memories! The un-fun part was having to clean it all up when we were done:)

It's great to read and see the goings on at the Wegener house. We really miss you guys!
Anne said…
We miss you and Nick, too! How's life in Nashville? (I'm watching for an update on your blog.) :)
We work like a horse.
We eat like a pig.
We like to play chicken.
You can get someone's goat.
We can be as slippery as a snake.
We get dog tired.
We can be as quiet as a mouse.
We can be as quick as a cat.
Some of us are as strong as an ox.
People try to buffalo others.
Some are as ugly as a toad.
We can be as gentle as a lamb.
Sometimes we are as happy as a lark.
Some of us drink like a fish.
We can be as proud as a peacock.
A few of us are as hairy as a gorilla.
You can get a frog in your throat.
We can be a lone wolf.
But I'm having a whale of a time!

You have a riveting web log
and undoubtedly must have
atypical & quiescent potential
for your intended readership.
May I suggest that you do
everything in your power to
honor your encyclopedic/omniscient
Designer/Architect as well
as your revering audience.
As soon as we acknowledge
this Supreme Designer/Architect,
Who has erected the beauteous
fabric of the universe, our minds
must necessarily be ravished with
wonder at this infinate goodness,
wisdom and power.

Please remember to never
restrict anyone's opportunities
for ascertaining uninterrupted
existence for their quintessence.

There is a time for everything,
a season for every activity
under heaven. A time to be
born and a time to die. A
time to plant and a time to
harvest. A time to kill and
a time to heal. A time to
tear down and a time to
rebuild. A time to cry and
a time to laugh. A time to
grieve and a time to dance.
A time to scatter stones
and a time to gather stones.
A time to embrace and a
time to turn away. A time to
search and a time to lose.
A time to keep and a time to
throw away. A time to tear
and a time to mend. A time
to be quiet and a time to
speak up. A time to love
and a time to hate. A time
for war and a time for peace.

Best wishes for continued ascendancy,
Dr. Howdy

'Thought & Humor'

P.S. One thing of which I am sure is
that the common culture of my youth
is gone for good. It was hollowed out
by the rise of ethnic "identity politics,"
then splintered beyond hope of repair
by the emergence of the web-based
technologies that so maximized and
facilitated cultural choice as to make
the broad-based offerings of the old
mass media look bland and unchallenging
by comparison."
mrsd said…
We call them tents. And oh, how they love them! (I have two set up as I type.)

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