One of the joys of my commute between home and the church is the amazing scenery. Some days I am making the drive as the sun is beginning to come up, and so the mountains reflect the brilliant colors of the sunrise especially when there is snow on them (which is certainly not the case right now with the long stretch of hot, hot weather we’ve had). And as we transition from summer to fall, a glorious yellow, spreads across hills as the aspens change.
But a few weeks ago, there were many days when I couldn’t even see a hint of the foothills. The smoke of distant fires had obscured the views which I look forward to each morning as I make my way along C470. When I can’t see “my mountains,” my mind moves to Psalm 121:1-2, one of my favorite verses of scripture:
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.
Even when the mountains aren’t visible, I know that they are there because I have seen them and have been in the midst of them in the past.
It is the same with God’s love. Even when death and sorrow, conflicts and struggles try to obscure that love, I know it is there. In the best of times and even in what seems like the worst of times, because we have experienced the presence and power of God’s love at other times, we can make it through. Because of the smile of a child, the touch of someone’s hand, the thoughtful words of someone who cares, a simple hug, a caring glance, we can be assured that God’s love is present with us anytime—all the time.
Peace, shalom, paix, heiwa, salaam,