I spent my teen years living in a suburb of Denver where the mountains marked west and you didn’t need a compass or GPS to get around.
It never occurred to me that the mountains might crumble or that I might wake one morning to find them somewhere else.
They were steady, sure and absolutely dependable.
When I moved to Pittsburgh and was forced to navigate without mountains to guide me, I found it easy to get lost (and I got lost a LOT in the first few months!).
The landmarks I had depended on were gone.
That’s what it felt like when I received the awful news.
In the first shock of death everything that has seemed most dependable had given way. Mountains were falling, the earth was reeling. In such a time it is a profound comfort to know that although all things seem to be shaken, one thing is not: God is not shaken … the thing that is most important is to do what the psalmist does later, to be ‘still’ and know that God is God. God is God whether we recognize it or not. But it comforts us and infuses strength into our faltering spirits to rest on that truth.
The earth beneath me gave way. I was falling.
When my heart was shattered, my hope hanging on by a thread, the Spirit of God brought truth to mind and gave me the strength to hold on.
I trust God’s Word and His character, even when I don’t understand what He is doing.
His faithful love endures forever.
I can depend on that.
No matter what.