“The Lord looks down from heaven; he sees
all humankind. From where he sits enthroned he watches all the inhabitants of the earth—he who fashions the hearts
of them all, and observes all their deeds. A king is not saved by his great
army; a warrior is not delivered by his great strength. The war horse is a vain
hope for victory, and by its great might it cannot save. Truly the eye of the Lord is on those who fear him, on those who
hope in his steadfast love, to deliver their soul from death, and to keep them
alive in famine.”
- Psalm
33:13-19
A few nights ago, I went to the grocery store at a time I’d
normally be getting ready for bed (Lindsey needed Tylenol to soothe a throbbing
headache and we didn’t have any in our medicine cabinet). As I pulled in to the
HEB parking lot, I noticed a man in a florescent vest that said “SECURITY” leisurely
walking up and down the aisles. I’d seen him before on other trips to the store,
but for some reason this time I paid extra attention to his stroll through the
parking lot, watching while he scanned the area. As I parked and walked in, I felt
reassured somehow—for the 5 minutes I’d be in the store, my car was safe.
When I emerged from the store carrying my receipt and the bottle
of Tylenol, he happened to be standing right by the door. I wished him a good
night and kept walking toward the car, but in that brief moment, I noticed something—for
a security guard, he didn’t look much different from me or anybody else in that
half-empty parking lot. He wasn’t armed, he didn’t have a walkie talkie, and he
didn’t carry a badge. He didn’t have a partner or a car with flashing lights
and a siren. He wasn’t even particularly big, maybe 6 feet tall and less than
200 lbs. Maybe he was a martial artist or an off-duty cop, I don’t know, but
the only thing that appeared to set him apart from anybody else in the parking
lot was that florescent vest that labeled him SECURITY. And yet for some
reason, I still felt just a little bit safer with him around.
From childhood through adulthood, one of our most fundamental human
needs is that we feel safe—but for something so vital, it’s amazing how quickly
we settle for things and people that offer only the promise and appearance of
safety. Desperate to feel secure, we place our faith in anyone or anything that
seems bigger and stronger than us, comforted by the knowledge that at least now
we’re not on our own. And then when the walls come tumbling down and our sense
of security is shaken once again, we despair at having placed our trust in the
wrong hands—only to then immediately go looking for a new savior, even bigger
and stronger than the last.
Psalm 33 reminds us of the futility of looking for absolute security
in earthly means: “A king is not saved by his great army; a
warrior is not delivered by his great strength. The war horse is a vain hope
for victory, and by its great might it cannot save.” The conventional places we
look for safety in a dangerous world, the psalmist says, ultimately are not where
deliverance is found. Salvation—from fear, from sorrow, from sin, and ultimately
from death—comes from the Lord.
In dangerous days when fear is perpetually
at the forefront of our thoughts, don’t settle for material solutions to a
spiritual problem, seeking your security through earthly means. God promises He
will never leave your nor forsake you, that He will be your refuge, and that He
will be with you even to the end of the age. This world may offer promises of security,
but only God can offer you the guarantee of salvation. Why settle for less?
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