1 I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
where does my help come from?
2 My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
3 He will not let your foot slip—
he who watches over you will not slumber;
4 indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
5 The LORD watches over you—
the LORD is your shade at your right hand;
6 the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.
7 The LORD will keep you from all harm—
he will watch over your life;
8 the LORD will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.
Psalm 121

Our faithful God. He lies awake in a higher place. One eye on me, the other on you. I look to the heavens and search for Him and He is there. Is He my reassurance? My safety? My Purpose? More: He is the creator of heaven and earth and shall always be there where I look for Him. He will protect me and give me purpose. But lest I forget, He is the Author of my life, provider of all love.

 Yes I look to the mountains. The high places because the places that are on my horizontal plane disappoint me. These places  are limited and often reflect a similar angst I carry – though some hide it better. I tilt my vision upward. The plane of  my vision now casts off into the depths of the universe. My God is there. He dwells in higher places. I need to look above the places that once tried to placate me ever-seeking a meaningful life, a deeper thought, and a more purposeful world. He is there always to help me. He understands me  and loves me. His is my Creator.

Once, I walked over the wet stones at the river’s edge. The shining stones are wet from the lapping of a busy stream always late to get somewhere. “Take me with you, stream of this world”, I cried. “I am in a hurry to get there too!” Where, though? I followed this river with hectic pace. It was deceiving me and I knew it. It was fleeting, ever-away, always ahead. It settled into a lake, maybe the sea, and waited.

So too must I wait.

I know I must wait for Him and His promises. I believed for a moment that the hectic pace was really going somewhere. I forgot to look upward to God. He was looking at me and He even kept my footstep sure. If I should slip and join as one with the water, my pace would join the pace of the world. False hopes adhering to my heart would be of something better. However, my reality would be mired in a waiting place of no purpose with the rest who are in that river. All waiting. All born to die.  Not me for I will not join! I am sure-footed, well really, my step is protected, it is not me at all. It is my Father watching me. Pray for those caught up in the fast river.

He watches me day and night. When would God sleep? His Love is His sleep; our obedience to Him, His rest. His right hand will protect me from a searing Sun and a Moon that is the light of a thief in the night. The fast world by day powered in sunlight and the thief at night: Fear. These are lights. The world doesn’t quite understand my need for a Light on a hill shining eternal.

His light shines brightly. It illuminates my soul. He is my contentment and I am sustained. Where I stand, I see a world on a pace to finish nowhere. It is deception if it tells you there is somewhere. The world doesn’t know anything but the temporal. Why would it know more? It extinguished the Light I look to long ago. Take pity on this sad world. It knows not what it does, it just rushes at a hectic pace to wait.

I like to see myself at leisure. There is joy in leisure and there is confidence. The confidence is this: God is with me every minute. No proof necessary. I just know because I have felt Him save me from slipping into the rushing river. Now, I choose to love each day. I know He loves me, so my supply is ample and I won’t run out of love. I just need to remember where to look: the mountains, higher places, a tipped plane of vision into eternity. There is God and here is God. Not a paradox. He is omniscient, everywhere, and He cares about me.

He sees me come and go and His mercy and love endure forever. I hear the din of a rushing river. It is inviting cool water as the Sun sears, it is inviting activity to explore by romantic moonlight. But I know. The world hurries to get nowhere. I choose to not be on this path to nowhere. When I forget, I may slip. But He will always be there.

The river runs at a hectic pace to a place where all deceived angst cries together. I must stay out of this river for there is another river awaiting me: A stream of Life, A stream of Living Water that quenches my thirst for eternity. And I am thankful of He who watches me from the mountain.

Rick Stassi

April 9, 2012