Unless we’ve been startlingly entertained by a choir of angels overnight, I’m guessing our joy level is going to be low on the dipstick this Monday morning. Days are dark. “Covid” seems like it is every other word in the newscast. Winter weather is creeping lower on the weather map. And, dang it, our clothes are shrinking again. So what are we going to do about it?
I suppose we could all do fifty jumping jacks while singing “Don’t Worry Be Happy.” That would raise endorphin levels and unshrink our waistbands. But, would it bring sustained joy? A brisk walk in fresh air could be helpful, but some of us are saving our muscles for snow removal. So, are we just doomed to plod through another Monday running on low?
The psalmist thought not and offered this wise counsel. Psalm 121:1-3:
My Help Comes from the LORD
A Song of Ascents.
“I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth. He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber.”
It’s a much simpler exercise than jumping jacks. Lift up our eyes. Look up. Change our focus. Capture the image of the Lord, creator of all, who never sleeps and is always attentive to our steps. The Lord is our ever-present help in time of trouble. Let’s pause our gaze here. Feel the pressure level rise on our joy gauge. God is so good.
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