I never realize how safe my mountains make me feel…
until they’re not there.
And one place that never fails to offer this reminder is the beach.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the beach. We didn’t grow up as a beach-going family, having another vacation tradition that continues even now. But despite my late start and relative few beach vacations, I always enjoy them.
The vastness and power of the ocean amaze me.
The sound of waves crashing soothes me.
The laughter of children and the calls of seagulls charm me.
And one thing in particular always stands out to me.
I feel vulnerable when I’m not surrounded by mountains.
It’s not a panicked feeling. More like a quiet awareness. But still, it’s there.
“‘For the mountains may depart and the hills be removed,
but My steadfast love shall not depart from you,
and My covenant of peace shall not be removed,’
says the LORD, who has compassion on you.”
As stable as my mountains seem, and as safe as my home feels nestled among them, it’s really just an illusion. Because secure means “free from danger or threat,” and there’s not anything about mountains that will actually protect me from a real and present danger.
As stable as they seem, they’re really just another fragile part of this fragile planet we fragile humans are inhabiting for a while.
The truth is, all of life is fragile.
Our very breath.
None of these offer a hope that carries promise. Yet how often do we misplace our hope in these very things?
There is only one source of a hope secure.
“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way,
though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble at its swelling. Selah.”
If you’re feeling hope-less, despairing in the face of a trial, defeated in the midst of a hardship, spend sometime evaluating where your hope has been placed. Or misplaced.
“Be still and know that I am God.”
My God is my Hope secure.