“I lift up my eyes to the mountains – where does my help come from?”
(Psalm 121:1 NIV)
Last night I had a nightmare. You know, the kind that leave you shaking in twisted sheets when you finally realize it’s not real, but then you refuse to fall back asleep and the run the risk of returning to its dreamscape.
I was at an amusement park; like an Adventureland or Six Flags sort of thing. I boarded a ride called “The Trencher.” It was a strange mechanical belt of sand. To board the ride, you got down in a sand hole, about waist-high and then the ride began. There was a young man in the sand hole immediately next to me, laughing and carrying on. The ride began the passenger next to me almost immediately began screaming “I told you I didn’t want to be in the Trencher!” At first, it seemed he was being comical, dramatic for the sheer fun of it. But very quickly his playful screams turned to panic as his body was visibly being sucked at from below. His arms clutched for the edges of his pit, but to no avail, all he could hold on to was sand and it slipped through his fingers. I turned to attempt to help as pieces of this man’s flesh began to suck off of him, swept into the pit he was standing in. It was horrifying and I could do nothing for him. Then, the Trencher began it’s pull on my own body. I could feel the sucking start from underneath my feet and tug at every cell in my being. I realized, that I too, was being pulled into the Trencher.
I awoke in a hot panic, troubled enough to stir my husband from his rest. I could not allow myself to fall back asleep, the pull of the Trencher was still so strong on my mind. The rest of the night was fitful
Now awake, with a cup of coffee in hand, my dream is starting to make sense. The world is stuck in a “Trencher” state right now and fear is looking to suck us each in and destroy our peace. Note the pull is from below, not above. We’ve got to refuse to climb in the hole. We’ve got to resist the draw of “This is how everyone else is coping, so I must, too.”
Right now, we are all looking down. Our eyes and hearts and minds are fixed on these little screens. It’s almost like worship, isn’t it? Consider how we jump to every trill and badge, the way we believe what they say and live as they rule.
Years ago, my husband preached a sermon entitled “Lessons I learned on my Bike.” One of his main points was – you go where you are looking. That has always stuck with me and this morning I realize how much of the past week I’ve spent looking down, literally and figuratively. Today, I am intentionally lifting my eyes. I’m searching the skies for help from above.
Christians cope in prayer. We look up, not down. We lift our eyes to the hills, we don’t settle down in the swamps. We can only lift others if we are first lifted ourselves.
“My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.”
(Psalm 121:2 NIV)
Lord, free us from our phones today. Let us leave them be and instead return to You. Help us fix our eyes on things above and our hearts on the hope we have in You. Hold our attention today and keep us from being sucked into fear in Jesus’ name. Amen.