What God showed me Oct 6, 2026 1 min read

The safest place I know

A friend asked me to picture the safest place I know. What came up first wasn't analysis. It was gratitude.

A worshipper seen from behind in a dark sanctuary, arms raised toward a glowing screen. Text: Picture the safest place you know. A real place.

A friend asked me this week to picture the safest place I know. A real place.

I landed in a sanctuary in Metairie on a Sunday night with the lights down low. And what came up first wasn't analysis. It was gratitude.

A wooden cross lit gold on the wall of a dark sanctuary during Sunday night worship. Text: The safest place I know. Sunday night, lights down, worship going.

So I sat with that.

I'm grateful the room is safe, and I'm grateful I can see why. It isn't the walls. It's what fills them. Pastors who are hungry for the presence of God. People who are hungry too. Nobody performing, nobody watching you. Everyone looking at Him.

That's Jehovah Shammah: the Lord is there. Loneliness answered by Presence. When His presence is cultivated in a room, the room becomes safe, and I'm free in it. Cry, dance, kneel, lie flat. However I need to meet Him, I can. What a gift to have a place like that.

And underneath it all is the gratitude I keep coming back to: God is real. He knows me, He wants to know me, and He speaks. His promises are yes and amen. His mercy endures forever.

I'm grateful I'm not wasting my life on a dead religion. I get to know the one true God, and I get to know Jesus Christ.

A worshipper with both arms raised in a dark room. Text: Grateful, for a room where I'm free to meet Him.

This week: picture your safest place. Then name the people who made it safe, and thank them. Then thank Him.

Photos: Victory Church