My family is filled with ministers. One of my uncles served the majority of his career as an Army Chaplain. Before one of his many deployments our tradition was to stuff ourselves full on my grandmother’s delicious Sunday dinner and sing hymns reserved for family gatherings. Also part of this custom was giving thanks…he asked if we could circle around for prayer and he began by reading Psalm 121:
I lift up my eyes to the hills—
from where will my help come?
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.
Thinking about my uncle and all who serve in our military, all who face the horrors of war, hearing their cries in the voice of the psalmist left an indelible impression on me. Not only in battle or conflict, there are many times in my life in which I have lifted my eyes to God, seeking help, pleading for assurance, longing to know I am not alone.
Perhaps you have felt this way too. In the stress of work, the struggle of family, the longing for connection, in the breaking of a heart, knowing that we are kept in grace and love day in and day out is a comfort. If you know this cry, this longing, this prayer, then you won’t be surprised that it is the one that I turn to and share with those who need to remember that in life, in death, and in life beyond death, we are not alone.
Holding on to this, as a community we gather this Lenten season to sing, to pray, and yes, even to eat, we are assured that God is with us holding us, healing us, keeping us from this time on and forevermore.
See you in church,
Hope