My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber.
He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord is your keeper; the Lord is your shade at your right hand.
The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night.
The Lord will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life.
The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time on and forevermore.
– Psalm 121, Lutheran Study Bible
There’s something about looking upward and outward that lifts our spirits. As one who loves the mountains, gazing at the grandeur of the towering peaks of the Rockies never fails to stir my spirit, thrilling me with wonder at God’s creative power. As a daughter of the plains and a true midwesterner, however, looking toward the wide open horizon of my beloved “flatland” gives me a feeling of optimism, hope, and the sense of boundless possibilities.
When we read Psalm 121, we hear the voice of a person crying out for help, perhaps seeking it by looking upward in hope. And immediately, he realizes that help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth, creator of all that exists. These two lines remind me of the thought process in which questions swirl around in one’s mind, perhaps coming close to panic, and then there’s the “bingo!” moment in which an answer (or at least a first step) comes to the surface.
I read in a commentary on this psalm how much is included and how quickly it moves along, as it opens with a personal question, followed immediately by an answer, and then a message is shared by the individual with the community. There is assurance that God’s protection is not only for the person asking for help, rather, it is clearly stated that all God’s people are never without his care and “keeping.” Old Testament use of the various forms of “keep” means “watch over” as to guard and guide. The image of a protector is intentional, emphasizing that God guards and cares for us throughout our lives.
We are all well aware that Christians are not exempt from the sorrows, tragedies, or problems of the world. When we experience or observe such times, it’s natural to question just how much protection we’re receiving, and why we feel threatened and vulnerable. We have fears and grief, because we are human, but we are created by God, and are his beloved children. In the often awkward balance (or imbalance) of this world and the world to come, the gifts of grace and faith anchor us. However desperate or confused we may be, the faith and knowledge that our souls are secure in God’s care gives us the answer to our question: “from where will my help come?”
Your friend in Christ,
Mary Rogers