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My High Tower

I have always coveted tree houses. I wasn’t really the climbing type, but if I had gotten my hands on a rope ladder or some steps, I would’ve been in business. It’s probably good I didn’t have one, because I would’ve bleached and Cloroxed those boards and walls to death trying to get rid of cobwebs. I most likely would have died an early death from high doses of ant repellent. But, nonetheless, I still envied all the children who had a treehouse.

I love that one of the names of God is my High Tower. There is something ingrained in the heart of man to be safe…protected. I, for one, am deathly afraid of heights, but there’s something comforting about being above your enemies. I suppose because the advantage lies with the one in the higher place.

Here’s the thought: It’s up to me how high I go.

I could have a tree house but never get up in it. I also have a Bible, but I choose how often I get in it. And I have a heavenly Father, but I choose how often I crawl into His arms.

If you’re feeling unusually low, check your position with these verses:

2 Samuel 22:3: “The God of my rock; in him will I trust: he is my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my high tower, and my refuge, my saviour;

Psalm 18:2: “The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower.”

Cry out to Jesus. And then go Higher.

 

 

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Cara Cobble Trantham is a freelance writer whose passion is to encourage women of all ages to draw closer to the Lord. She lives in Greeneville, Tennessee, with her husband and one-year-old daughter. She loves to send cards in magazine envelopes, counsel ladies over sugar and cream (with a little bit of coffee), and read a good book at the beach. Her bucket list includes eating pizza in Chicago, staying at a bed and breakfast in Savannah, and following a recipe without leaving out an ingredient.

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