“I am the LORD your God, who brought you up out of Egypt. Open wide your mouth and I will fill it.” Psalm 81:10 (NIV)
In seasons where life stretches me thin, my doubts can grow the thickest. I handpick what I’ll ask God’s help with, as if He has human limits or a set quota.
A few years ago, we moved to a small mountain town to be near my parents-in-law. I knew God had ordained the move, but the transition still strained me. I’m not a winter person, and winters here are grueling. Record snows fell day after day of our first winter, so much that heavy equipment operators had to dig out our driveway. Snow still blanketed the ground in the spring when my father-in-law was diagnosed with cancer.
My husband and I became Dad’s primary caregivers. We jumped in and didn’t grasp how unprepared we were. Work from both our jobs piled up, along with all the daily stuff required to run two households. I grew tired of trying to sustain my calling as a writer and gave up. The other areas of life demanded constant attention and prayer, and I thought it was frivolous and selfish to pray about writing—so I didn’t. I’m grateful that the same God who understands my limitations covers them with boundless grace.
In Psalm 81, the Israelites gathered to celebrate how God answered their cries for deliverance from Egypt. He freed them from slavery, parted the Red Sea, and provided food and safety for them in the wilderness. In our key verse, God declares: “I am the LORD your God, who brought you up out of Egypt. Open wide your mouth and I will fill it” (Psalm 81:10).
God reminds us of who is He is and what He did for the Israelites. When we’re tempted to limit what God can do, Scripture helps us reframe our perspective. God’s ability is just as endless as His willingness: that’s who He is. Then God explains our part. Like baby birds with tiny beaks yawning heavenward, we posture to receive and expect Him to provide.
When I read my journal from that winter season, I see times when I lost this perspective. Writing didn’t make my shortlist, but it did make God’s. Two days after I gave up on writing, I got a Facebook message from someone I managed in a restaurant thirty years ago. He said, “I still have the poem you wrote for my high school graduation. Keep writing!” The next day, I received a text from a friend, “It strengthens my faith when you write about yours.”
I hadn’t postured myself to receive, yet God provided the exact encouragement I needed. What a comfort to know His love is rooted in a grace wide enough to cover the requests we hold in our hearts, even when we aren’t able to voice them. That’s who He is.