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 121:1-2
Our flight landed around midday. As we left the airport, I could see the Rocky Mountains in the distance.
I’m always in awe of that initial view as we drive towards them. They rise suddenly, distinct and dramatic against the flat, brown, monotonous plains around Denver.
Usually we’ve been to Breckenridge, Colorado in the winter. My husband, three children and myself like to take advantage of fresh powder and skiing. This was our first time out west in the summer.
We drove to Boulder for the afternoon and then began the climb on winding roads between rugged rock faces. Often, as we turned a bend, we noticed cars, seemingly abandoned, on the side of the road. But then, as we peered upwards through the window, we’d spy a small body high above us clinging to the rock.
We passed cows grazing in lush alpine meadows. Then, incongruent with the landscape, a town called Black Hawk. Casino after casino lined the well-paved streets.
Soon we made the real ascent to the Eisenhower Tunnel. The car’s engine screamed as it sucked in the little oxygen it could find, and battled against the steep road. Into the long dark tunnel, out the other side, and suddenly we were into sunlight again. The road swept down in front of us, mile after mile of curving highway. The mountains stretched out all around us. It was like we’d entered through the wardrobe and into another world.
The next day we took the cable car to spend a day hiking. Normally, we’d be wearing clumpy boots and carrying skis, shuffling and negotiating the moving doorway of the car as it slid slowly round on the cables. This time, we hopped in with only Camelbaks holding water.
Rough peaks rose above us. Snow nestled in the dips, even though it was August. We started our steep climb, aiming to make our way to the warming hut sitting above one of the bowls.
Soon, we left other hikers behind and we were alone. Breckenridge looked like a toy model in the distance.
Our only company, a strong breeze rustling the pine trees, and delicate alpine flowers in brilliant purples, reds and yellows enjoying the summer sun. The clouds seemed bigger and bolder at altitude. They made dramatic shadows on the slopes as they rolled overhead.
I felt small in this daunting environment, especially as thunderstorms, with dangerous lightening, often threaten in the afternoon.
For the ancient people of God, the mountains reminded them of God’s strength and protection.
It can be the same for us, and the remainder of Psalm 121 goes onto tell us of God’s promised safekeeping.
Psalm 121:3-8 NLT
From the reading above, write down all the ways that God promises to protect you.
Have you been questioning God’s protection for your life?
In what one way do you need to start trusting his protection?
This week, I am linking up with Amy Schlichter at #LookingUp. #FaithFilledFriday, Susan Mead at #DanceWithJesus, Tayrina Gonzalez at #WordsofComfort, Holly Gerth at #CoffeeformyHeart, Rosilind Jukic at #ALittleR&R, Natalie Venegas at Salt & Light, Susan B. Mead at #DanceWithJesus, Arabah Joy at Grace & Truth, Kelly Balarie at #RaRaLinkup, with Holley Gerth at #CoffeeForYourHeart
Thanks to Baker Encyclopedia of the Bible and Holman Treasury of Key Bible Words for their explanation of mountains in the Bible.