By Shannon Leadbeater 
I teeter on the edge of the abyss. This isn’t unfamiliar territory. I’ve been here before. On the precipice of a pit. Too close to the edge.
Sometimes the earth gives way suddenly and I find myself at the bottom, blinded by the darkness. This time is different. I find myself sliding slowly, slowly downward. Aware of what’s happening but seemingly unable to stop it. Until I sit, plunk, on the ground. In the mud. In the pit.
This pit isn’t as deep as the ones I’ve been in before. But it is a pit nonetheless. It is dark. Cold. Lonely. There’s a feeling of helplessness here. I don’t want to be here. I’m not entirely sure how I got here. Or how to get out of here. But here I sit. In the mud.
I look up from the pit and see Jesus on his throne. Shining with the light of His love and truth and glory. A place where I have curled up in His lap countless times. A place I have been able to crawl up into before. But not now. I don’t have the strength to crawl up there now. I don’t have the strength to do anything more than look up. Just looking up at Jesus takes all the strength I have.
But as I look up at Him, seated on His throne, I see Him looking down at me. Not looking down with contempt or scorn. But with great love and compassion. He smiles a gentle smile, and His eyes offer me a question without words, “Do you want me to come to be with you?” My lips turn upwards slightly in my yes, my eyes fill with tears, though my voice remains mute and my arms at my side, their heaviness making me unable to lift them in response.
And He does. He comes. He slides right off his heavenly throne and joins me in the pit before I have a chance to blink. Sitting beside me in the mud. As close as my very breath. He breathes the breath of life over me, replacing the stale air of the pit with His fresh air of life filling my lungs.
I breathe in deeply. I sigh. I lean in to Him and feel His arms encircling me, enfolding me, and, when I’m ready and with my permission, lifting me gently onto His lap in the pit.
I close my eyes. I feel His warmth. The warmth of His love and His light and His truth and His presence. The dark and coldness and loneliness and helplessness of the pit fades away.
And I am once again sitting in Jesus’ lap as He sits upon His throne. Safe and warm in His embrace. For this moment. Until I slip again. Knowing that is a reality and not a failure. And that Jesus understands and will always be there to meet me and bring me out of the pit. No matter how many times I fall.
“I waited patiently for the Lord to help me, and he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along.” Psalm 40:1-2 (NLT)
by Her View From Home 
by Kelli Bachara 
