Psalm 27:5 (ESV)—For he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent; he will lift me high upon a rock.
Though there are many formation theories of Devils Tower National Monument, my favorite is the Native American belief the Great Spirit made the rock rise from the ground to save a pair of girls running from giant bears. The steep rock lifted the girls too high for the bears to climb and the striations in the rocks are claw marks from the bears trying to chase the girls. (See the NPS website for the complete story and other stories.)
Like the Great Spirit, God lifts us from danger to put us in a place of safety. He lifted Noah and his family in an ark to survive the flood. He lifted people from the alienating bonds of sickness. He even lifted people from death.
Because God has our best in mind, we can trust he will lift us high on a rock in times of tension. In this safe space, we experience comfort in loss, celebration in overcoming, peace amid anxiousness, love during loneliness, and release of fear.
For these things and so much more, our God is worthy of praise. Today, let’s tell him the strife we’re facing and allow him to lift us high upon a rock.
Psalm 51:11–13 (ESV)—Cast me not away from your presence, and take not your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit. Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you.
A beautiful day beckoned with sunshine and seventy-degree weather. So my husband and I drove to a local state park, where we established ourselves on the dock, with camping chairs and books.
A few chapters into my book, I heard a shuffle that stole my attention from reading. Given no other people on the dock with us, I turned my head toward the sound.
A raccoon climbed onto the top of the trash can, pressed open the lid, disappeared inside, and came out dragging trash and discarded food. It hauled its meal into the overgrowth of trees and bushes.
Not a long time later, it emerged again, head peeking out from tall grasses. The creature scurried the same path to the trash can, climbed the wooden railings and onto the receptacle, then pushed open the door and emerged once again.
Watching this masked bandit, I thought it seemed ultra familiar with the location and ins and outs of this receptacle. Now, I wonder about the health of this (undeniably cute) trash thief. It takes the path back and forth from human food to natural home in the trees. The food fills its stomach, but it doesn’t receive its daily nutritional needs.
Like the raccoon, I sometimes find myself digging in the trash (metaphorically, of course) to try to find sustenance. For example, after a vacation, my hubby and I often hash out our trip. “What could have gone better” is an often-discussed topic, like that bedroom in the shared condo where we had to walk into the hallway for the bathroom. Affordable but awkward, to say the least. By the end of our nitpicking, I usually end up with a furrowed brow and a bad feeling. Not good for my mental health, for certain.
Our spiritual health also suffers when we try to find nutrition in the past rather than in the present in the presence of God. When we pull a sin from the trash, we’re tempted to pick it apart and mull over the negative aspects. Going back and forth to the same thing over and over again isn’t healthy.
Fortunately, this psalm of David shows us a better way of examining our sin: in light of God’s mercy and grace. Our past sins don’t hold us in the past but rather, when treated properly, sustain our spirit now and in the future. Our repentance puts praise on our tongues that can motivate others to seek the same forgiveness. A lesson that reaches further than any nitpicking of “what could have gone better.”
The better is in the sustenance of the Spirit, and only God’s love and mercy can help us find peace for our sins.
Numbers 9:21 (ESV)—And sometimes the cloud remained from evening until morning. And when the cloud lifted in the morning, they set out, or if it continued for a day and a night, when the cloud lifted they set out.
I perched on the edge of my seat on the bus, on the lookout for wildlife and the top of Mount McKinley in Denali National Park. Hoards of bears, a fox, a flock of dall sheep, a herd of caribou, and a moose later, at the end of the road, the clouds still obscured Mount McKinley, its view a shroud of mystery (except for thousands of photos on the internet, of course).
For the Israelites, the cloud of God led them through the desert. When the cloud descended on the tabernacle, the Israelites made camp, and when the cloud lifted, they broke camp and traveled through the desert, an arduous journey for sure.
The people trusted in God even with the mystery of the cloud’s timing. They allowed God to lead and followed in obedience.
Today, God still sets the pace of our journey, though not in the form of a physical cloud. His protection comes in the form of a friend telling us we need to slow down, in jobs appearing when we need them most, in anxiety attacks telling our bodies enough is enough.
The next steps of God’s plan for us, whether shrouded in thick, dense fog or clear for miles and miles, come when we sit in God’s presence. In this place of rest, we can find assurance and can ask for wisdom to separate his plan from our own.
For sure, God’s plan is a mystery whose revelation unfolds in his timing. While we wait though, he provides a cloud of comfort, peace, and protection.
Acts 16:25 (ESV)—About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them.
Do not disturb the wildlife, the sign read. I walked along the paved trail into Glenwood Canyon. I crossed my fingers, hoping to see at least one bighorn sheep—from a distance, of course, and preferably perched high up on a canyon wall. I certainly didn’t want to sneak up on this creature, startling it into being aggressive.
That’s what happened when Paul commanded a spirit to come out of a slave girl whose “talent” was bringing in money to her owners. He stole the girl’s owners’ means of making money, and the owners acted with aggression. They lied, telling the city magistrates that Paul and Silas were teaching things “not lawful for. . . Romans to accept or practice.” The officials then threw Paul and Silas into jail.
In the Christian life, it’s inevitable: we’re going to sneak up on bighorn sheep. Our beliefs are going to cause believers and nonbelievers alike to challenge our faith and stir up a fight.
But even when another person wants to butt heads, our best response is a peaceful attitude that causes others to listen, like Paul’s and Silas’ praying and singing of hymns while in jail. It is peacefulness such as this that stirs up belief in Christ and gives us a chance to minister further.
Romans 12:10 (ESV)—Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves.
Travel. It can bring out the happy, carefree us; it can bring out the hands-on-hips, ready-for-a-showdown us.
And how do I know that?
Just yesterday, my hubby and I hopped into the car for a two-hour drive to watch the eclipse. About halfway there, we stopped at a gas station for snacks at my request, much to the chagrin of my hubby, who very much wanted to get to our destination. Still, he filled the tank while I went inside for a leisurely browse of the snacks. A bit too leisurely if I correctly read my hubby’s facial expression when he came inside to collect me. Even so, I argued a bit and continued my browsing, albeit with my gaze moving faster over the selection of goodies.
Immediately, in the car, God prodded me: Apologize. He said I should have swallowed my wants (not quite as tasty as my snacks), paid for the drinks in my hand, and left the store without looking further. He finished with, “Honor one another above yourselves.”
Yep, one of those memory verses I’d tucked away, a verse about love that applies to every relationship, not just spousal ones. This characteristic of Christ allows us to be humble, to sacrifice our selfishness for the wants of another. Humility helps us to push aside our worldly feelings and love with zeal, joy, and faith. And we can sacrifice these human faults to live as Christ did because we have the peace of knowing Christ overcame the world (John 16:33).
On this day, I sinned. But I chose to turn from the darkness and walk in the light (1 John 1:7), to apologize for my behavior of not honoring another above myself. My hubby forgave me—and for good measure, we sealed the deal with a kiss.
Proverbs 15:24 (ESV)—The path of life leads upward for the prudent, that he may turn away from Sheol beneath.
Proverbs 15:24 (GNT)—Wise people walk the road that leads upward to life, not the road that leads downward to death.
In Glenwood Springs, Colorado, I hiked the Red Mountain Trail, a moderate trail with a steady climb on a zigzag path about three and a half miles long. About halfway up the trail, I huffed and puffed, admiring the panoramic vistas but questioning my husband, “Should we turn back?” while we stopped to rest at an overlook. My eyes scanned upward, backward, and I decided we’d come to Colorado to hike, to see the fall colors, so hike we did. Right to the top, where a metal cross stood to mark our victory. We endured.
The path of life is like a trail that tests our endurance. The bends bring surprises—of beauty and of pain. In the beauty, it’s easy for us to move on. Out of breath, low on energy, we question our ability to move forward or we wonder why we’ve chosen this path in the first place. Then we reach an overlook that displays the vastness of our choice and we find the energy to go on.
Moving forward brings us closer to God, and he gives us the tools to endure until we reach the foot of the cross and our eternal reward. In our struggles, he brings us peace when we put our minds on him. His peace protects our hearts and minds. When his peace rules our hearts, we can reach the cross through all of life’s circumstances. We can endure.
