We went to Speedwell Cavern yesterday.  Its flooded so you have to get into the cave by boat,  as we journeyed our guide told us about the little blast holes that miners had carved into the tunnel.  Once they had laid explosive they would run to these holes and hide in them as rock, and the lead they were trying to mine, flew past them following the blast.

This morning in prayers we looked at Psalm 84 and were asked to imagine what it means that we describe God as a home.  I wondered if one thing it could mean was that he was my blast hole.  Somewhere to hide and take refuge when explosions and blasts occur.

It feels a little bit like there are blasts in my life right now.  Life is unsettled.  So it is good to know that in God I have a home.