A song of ascents.
I lift up my eyes to the
mountains— where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the
Maker of heaven and earth. (Psalm 120:1-2)
The
past few days have been tough. I thought of writing something for yesterday’s
post about 9/11, but I write the day before. Last night and this morning, the grief
hit, possibly because I learned that Iryna Zarutska was killed in Charlotte (a couple of weeks ago) and Charlie Kirk
was assassinated in Utah yesterday. In my mind, the three are separated by time and
space, but irrationally, one in their message. That message is that something has
been and is desperately wrong with this country. We need help.
In ancient
Israel, the mountains were places of idol worship and danger. They were also
the territory that had to be traveled to get to the place of worship of Israel’s
God. You couldn’t get there without the struggle of the journey, the danger of
thieves, or without walking through the shadow of death that is the territory
of other gods. It describes our situation today, too.
I’m not
even sure who some of our gods are today. I know that their priests are
academics, politicians, and entertainers (including reporters.) I also know
that if we do away with the priests, more will take their place. Our help will
not come by taking over their roles and doing “right” with the same attitude as
they had when they did “wrong.” It does not come from being as vicious and
violent as they are because then we become like them.
Our
help must come from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. It must come in
the way He chooses, and we must align ourselves with His teachings. Now is not
the time for revenge. It is the time to stand and to make the changes we need
to make in our own lives and within our families. God won’t honor our goal to
replace Him and those who are trying to replace Him with ourselves. He will
honor those who look to and for Him in the mountains.
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