the day, though, i’m faced with the question of where i find my security. i remember times when it was obviously in the home where i grew up. i used to listen to my dad playing guitar downstairs and watch the nighttime sky light up with bolts of lightning in the summer.
the past few years, however, i continue to find that i can’t go home. as much as i want to just crawl into my old bed and have time stop, i can’t. my security is no longer in the home of my childhood.
my security is to be found in jesus’ blood alone. he is my freedom.
jesus’ blood never fails 