Personal Narrative: The Destructive Shelter Of His Spirit

418 Words1 Page

When I think of the word shelter, I think of a place of protection. I picture a roof over my head to protect me from a storm. I picture a room with a warm fire to protect me from the stinging cold. I picture a bird covering her babies with her wings. But as I thought about what to write, the story that entered my mind was not a physical shelter, but God's protective shelter of His spirit. When I was in my twenties, we lived in an apartment above a Methodist church In downtown Huntington, West Virginia. There were many, many homeless people in that city. I walked to and from work each day. Some of the homeless were very sweet and friendly and I spoke with them daily. Others had minds and spirits that were scary and angry. A result of drugs,

Open Document