When I was young I was bold to climb or descend a steep hillside when hiking in rough country. Perhaps overconfident I would scramble up for a better view of my surroundings, or down to get a close look at a flowering shrub. I often was startled to discover that a stone I grasped to pull myself up came loose and required me to shift quickly to another hoped-for support, or that a ledge I put my foot on crumbled and fell away. I feel that way about the affairs, the culture of our nation today. Things that always seemed firm come loose and leave me scrambling for another handhold or foothold.
Trust in Jesus Christ, my new-found faith of forty years, keeps me moving with trembling assurance to the high ground where the view is bright and fresh, and the flowering shrubs may be enjoyed in peace and safety. Politics, law, and even reasonable financial security are not leading me to the grand vista and the beautiful life I desire, but gripping the hand of Jesus Christ is bringing the vista and the beauty closer and helping me continue the climb. My prayer is, when my view of the path threatens to be obscured by passions or fears, that Christ will keep my hand in his firm grasp and even squeeze it reassuringly while we move ahead.
Morning, September 24, 2021