Reflecting the Image

Scripture:

Psalm 121

1 I lift up my eyes to the hills—
    from where will my help come?

2 My help comes from the Lord,
    who made heaven and earth.

3 He will not let your foot be moved;
    he who keeps you will not slumber.

4 He who keeps Israel
    will neither slumber nor sleep.

5 The Lord is your keeper;
    the Lord is your shade at your right hand.

6 The sun shall not strike you by day
    nor the moon by night.

7 The Lord will keep you from all evil;
    he will keep your life.

8 The Lord will keep
    your going out and your coming in
    from this time on and forevermore. (NRSVUE)

Observation:

As the psalmist lifted up their eyes to the hills, what did they see? Some have suggested that the hills were dotted with places of worship to foreign gods, a sad reminder of the ways God’s people had forsaken serving Yahweh. Others have seen the hills as part of the journey of the pilgrim making the way toward Jerusalem. Whatever the psalmist saw, the question remains:

“From where will my help come?”

The answer is not the hills themselves, nor anything that human beings might build upon them. Help comes from the One who made the hills. Our help reaches far beyond what the human mind can create or imagine, to the One who made heaven and earth.

This all-powerful God is the One who watches over His children, providing a firm foundation for the journey on which we are traveling and watching over us while we get our much-needed rest. That’s because He doesn’t sleep. He is on guard 24/7, watching over Israel and all of His children.

The word “keep” is repeated throughout this Psalm. The Lord keeps us. The Lord is our keeper. The Lord keeps our lives. The Lord keeps our going out and our coming in. Whatever we face in life, day or night, the psalmist continually directs our attention back to the One who never slumbers or sleeps.

Application:

This was one of the passages that my grandfather had memorized. I can still hear him quoting this Psalm, and as a child I imagined looking out at the mountains and seeing the majesty of God. It wasn’t until later in life that I discovered another way of understanding those hills. What if the psalmist looked up and saw the high places where people sought help from other gods? Suddenly the question sounds different: “From where will my help come?”

Not from the high places.

Not from something made by human hands.

“My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.”

As I lift up my eyes today, what do I see?

I lift up my eyes to my home, my car, my job, and my family. What do those things mean to me? Is there any way that they have become the gods of my life? They may all be good things, but what if they have become a distraction from what is really important in life?

And when life comes crashing in on you — where will you look for help? Is the answer your house, your car, your job, your savings account, or even your family? Yes, they may all be helpful, but none of them can ultimately be our keeper. The Creator of heaven and earth is the One upon whom we are invited to depend.

The question, “Where will my help come from?” isn’t really a question about God. It’s a question about us. We all go looking for help, because we all need help. This is a question about dependence.

Either we become dependent upon the things we can see on the hills, or we become dependent upon the Creator of the hills.

Where will your help come from today?

Prayer:

Lord, thank You for a grandfather who so faithfully lived out this kind of dependence upon You. Not only did he hide these words in his heart, but he lived them and passed their truth on to the next generations. Help me to live a life of trusting You in all things — a life of dependence upon You. Amen.