I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord Who made heaven and earth. (Verses 1-2)
Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive tree fail and the fields yield no food and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord. I will take joy in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength; He makes my feet like the deer's; He makes me tread on my high places. Habakkuk 3 Italics, mine
We live most of our lives in the valley. By that I mean, we are involved in the circumstances of our day to day with barely time to spare. I remember when my children were at home, I'd be up at five in the morning donning my running shoes and sweats for the three to four mile run I'd finish before six. Then back home to get a pre-schooler ready and fed, lunches in sacks, take my shower and be at my place in the high school to begin teaching by eight-thirty. After school, I gathered children from their schools, graded papers, made dinner, often met with extra-curricular groups I was working with and fell into bed to do it all over again the next morning. Whew! Left precious little time to "lift up my eyes."
But sometimes life throws a curve ball and we have to stop and look at our circumstances from a different vantage point. We need to get to higher ground so we can see with a bird's eye view the things that overwhelm us in the valley. Maybe that's why God tended to meet people on mountaintops. Remember Moses went to the top of Mt. Sinai to receive the commandments for Israel. Elijah met with God on a mountain where the Lord revealed Himself to the prophet in a whisper. Jesus was transfigured on a mountaintop where Moses and Elijah appeared to Him. The crucifixion even took place on a hill called The Place of the Skull, outside of Jerusalem. A bump of ground higher than the landscape around it so that all could see Christ sacrificed. Elevation matters.
Saturday night I didn't sleep very well. I tossed and turned praying for a young man who is struggling with his faith because of a huge disappointment in his life. I know that feeling. I've been there and made similar mistakes with my heart. My prayers turned more toward wanting to go deeper with Christ myself. Come on up higher. I heard it. And as I write this today, His words to me feel prescient. I hadn't read this psalm, yet, in preparation for writing about it. But there it is. Come up higher. An invitation to see life and circumstances from the mountain where He lives. Understanding that hiking to the heights has the advantage of hearing the whisperings of God. It changed Moses, Elijah and Jesus to meet God on the dizzying atmosphere of a cloud-shrouded mountain. To be encompassed by His essence and to hear Him speak their name. What else could matter, then? The God of All has looked you in the face and declared His Presence to be enough. Has walked you through the hurricane, the earthquake and the fire to meet you, assuring that the Maker of heaven and earth sees you in your need, and He is present.
Come up higher with me today. For some, I know it means just trying to lift your head toward the hills. Just that act will take all the energy left. But if we can just look to the hills, we'll remember, Ah, yes...that's where my help comes from. Because for some of us, the fig tree isn't blossoming and the fruit has all but dried up. But God isn't in the circumstances. He's waiting on the mountain to see our eyes look into His. For us to see His outstretched right hand bidding us come up higher, to a place where things are more clear, where the air is clean and cool, where the perspective is eternal, unhindered by the fading fruit or the empty pens of cattle. Our God is there, calling us to climb up and tread on holy ground.
Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive tree fail and the fields yield no food and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord. I will take joy in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength; He makes my feet like the deer's; He makes me tread on my high places. Habakkuk 3 Italics, mine
We live most of our lives in the valley. By that I mean, we are involved in the circumstances of our day to day with barely time to spare. I remember when my children were at home, I'd be up at five in the morning donning my running shoes and sweats for the three to four mile run I'd finish before six. Then back home to get a pre-schooler ready and fed, lunches in sacks, take my shower and be at my place in the high school to begin teaching by eight-thirty. After school, I gathered children from their schools, graded papers, made dinner, often met with extra-curricular groups I was working with and fell into bed to do it all over again the next morning. Whew! Left precious little time to "lift up my eyes."
But sometimes life throws a curve ball and we have to stop and look at our circumstances from a different vantage point. We need to get to higher ground so we can see with a bird's eye view the things that overwhelm us in the valley. Maybe that's why God tended to meet people on mountaintops. Remember Moses went to the top of Mt. Sinai to receive the commandments for Israel. Elijah met with God on a mountain where the Lord revealed Himself to the prophet in a whisper. Jesus was transfigured on a mountaintop where Moses and Elijah appeared to Him. The crucifixion even took place on a hill called The Place of the Skull, outside of Jerusalem. A bump of ground higher than the landscape around it so that all could see Christ sacrificed. Elevation matters.
Saturday night I didn't sleep very well. I tossed and turned praying for a young man who is struggling with his faith because of a huge disappointment in his life. I know that feeling. I've been there and made similar mistakes with my heart. My prayers turned more toward wanting to go deeper with Christ myself. Come on up higher. I heard it. And as I write this today, His words to me feel prescient. I hadn't read this psalm, yet, in preparation for writing about it. But there it is. Come up higher. An invitation to see life and circumstances from the mountain where He lives. Understanding that hiking to the heights has the advantage of hearing the whisperings of God. It changed Moses, Elijah and Jesus to meet God on the dizzying atmosphere of a cloud-shrouded mountain. To be encompassed by His essence and to hear Him speak their name. What else could matter, then? The God of All has looked you in the face and declared His Presence to be enough. Has walked you through the hurricane, the earthquake and the fire to meet you, assuring that the Maker of heaven and earth sees you in your need, and He is present.
Come up higher with me today. For some, I know it means just trying to lift your head toward the hills. Just that act will take all the energy left. But if we can just look to the hills, we'll remember, Ah, yes...that's where my help comes from. Because for some of us, the fig tree isn't blossoming and the fruit has all but dried up. But God isn't in the circumstances. He's waiting on the mountain to see our eyes look into His. For us to see His outstretched right hand bidding us come up higher, to a place where things are more clear, where the air is clean and cool, where the perspective is eternal, unhindered by the fading fruit or the empty pens of cattle. Our God is there, calling us to climb up and tread on holy ground.
No comments:
Post a Comment