dancingthroughchaos

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

I’ve been fortunate to be able to see the local Helderberg mountains this week, here in the Western Cape.  There have been days when the lingering wet winter has hidden them completely, but fabulous days when the sun has broken through, the clouds have lifted and they’ve been revealed in al their majesty.  Looking up is easy on such days.

However, it’s been quite a week in the world beyond these mountains, and my attention has frequently been elsewhere.  

It’s all kicking off in the Middle East, with hundreds killed on both sides of a conflict that has rumbled for hundreds of years and has escalated in a new and brutal way.  There’s been an earthquake in Afghanistan which has killed over 2,000 people; civil wars are still going on in a number of countries including Syria, South Sudan, the Congo and Ethiopia; famine is a reality for thousands of people; the refugee crisis hasn’t gone away; war is still raging in the Ukraine; a tragic coach accident killed 21 people in Italy this week, and who knows what’s going on in North Korea.  The political circus in the USA only demonstrates their disunity, and things don’t look much brighter in the UK by all accounts.

The feeling of overwhelm is all too real, and the temptation to crawl back under the duvet and hide becomes increasingly appealing.  

It’s a good time to take to heart from the wisdom of the Psalmist who wrote the words above.  When our heads drop and our shoulders slump; when our legs give way, and our hearts are weighted with the sorrows of the world and the apparently never-ending cruelty of humanity, it’s easy to lose sight of the One who never changes. 

Rolling newsreels have made my own past week of preparing for a book festival and a women’s day pale into insignificance.  Even the imminent arrival of several boxes of my new children’s book seem inconsequential in the light of world events.

These are the times when people ask where God is and what He’s doing, and the Psalm goes on to answer that question, ending with the words: 

the Lord will watch over your coming and going
both now and for evermore.

The immoveable mountains are a good reminder of His unchanging nature.  Mountains – wherever they are (my photos here are from Switzerland and France, as well as South Africa) – compel me to lift my head again, and look beyond the immediate. While we can’t exist in a bubble (however strong the temptation), and although we may weep for the unfolding tragedies around us, we can’t blame God for the manifestation of evil whose source is the antithesis of Him.  

History indicates that conflict, violence and hatred – all consequences of rejecting Him – are destined to play out until the final page, whenever that might be; we never seem to learn.  However, I don’t believe that God has retreated.  I do believe He weeps along with us. Another Psalm claims that God keeps all our tears in a bottle.  What a collection He must have!

Looking up at the mountains always gives me a sense of perspective. Having stood for thousands of years, they remind me that I am very small in the scheme of things; that they will still stand sentinel long after I am gone, and that the One who created them is bigger than even the most desperate of crises.  The good news for those pleading with Him to step into our history, is that He already has.  I choose to take courage, to keep looking up and reminding myself of that truth.