I held Noah in his bed tonight, stroking his soft, little boy hair through my fingers. I am continually overcome with thankfulness for this child, as we once almost lost him, in our eyes, we saw him slipping away and didn’t let go. The Lord spoke to me as I kissed his face, clear as day, “Nothing was taken.”
I lay there looking at this angel, my firstborn in my arms, growing up to be a young boy. And nothing was taken. The enemy came to kill and steal, but he did not take. He didn’t get away with it. It was like our home had been “broken into” but nothing was taken. We had a scare and felt violated and hurt, and had to make some changes, but nothing was taken from us.
When the storm is over, there is nothing left of the wicked; good people, firm on their Rock foundation, aren’t even fazed.