Do you remember, when I used to hide under the bed?
The slats were like prison bars, but I thought I was hidden from view
Cramped up against the dirty laundry and lost toys – hello Mr. Bear
But they always found me, pulling back the mattress and glaring down through my wooden bars.
Yet…yet in you, there are no holes, there’s no cover that can be stripped back
In your Word which isn’t permeable but rather impregnable
I can hide, and find a refuge…you kept me so safe…
and I know you’d do it again, out of grace.
Psalm 119 vs 114: You are my hiding place and my shield, I hope in your word.