Friday, February 27
Read: Psalm 121; Micah 7:18-20; Romans 3:21-31
Psalm 121 was likely recited by travelers heading to Jerusalem, navigating through tough landscapes, facing dangers like bandits, scorching sun, and unknown threats. Their world was unstable, yet they trusted that “the Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time on and forevermore.” Our journeys are different—carpool rides and hospital visits, late-night news alerts and security alarms—but our hearts feel the same tug-of-war between fear and faith.
We live in a culture that tries to engineer safety: national security, home security, online security, even “safety” as a brand for children’s products. Some of this is wise and necessary; locking doors and planning ahead can be acts of love. But when fear becomes the air we breathe, our lives shrink. We brace for impact, assume the worst, and quietly accept a version of life that is far smaller than the life God longs to give.
Psalm 121 repeats one Hebrew verb six times in the NRSVue: “keep”—to watch over, guard, protect. God keeps our feet from slipping on the path, stays awake when we cannot, shades us from scorching heat and from the mysterious terrors of the night. In a world where other gods were thought to sleep or disappear for a season, Israel confessed a God who does not slumber or sleep.
This is not a promise that no harm will ever occur; the pilgrims who prayed this psalm still traveled through dangerous land. It is a promise that no danger, no valley, no wound will have the final word over those whose help comes from the Lord. When we live “inside” fear, every hill on the horizon appears threatening. When we live “outside” fear—under the shade of God’s keeping—we still see the hills, but we also see the One who created them.
This Lent, we can practice stepping “outside” of fear, not by denying danger, but by refusing to let it be the loudest voice in the room. Here is a simple daily practice:
- Pause and notice
When we feel anxious or our chest tightens, we can pause for a minute. We might sit in a chair, put our feet on the floor, and take a slow, deep breath.
- Name the fear before God
Silently or aloud, we finish this sentence: “Holy Keeper of Israel, today I am afraid of ______.” We do not edit ourselves. We simply tell the truth to the One who neither slumbers nor sleeps.
- Pray the promise
After naming our fear, we recite one line from Psalm 121 slowly, serving as a counterbalance to that fear. For example: “The Lord will keep my life.” We repeat this line for three slow breaths, allowing the words to move from our minds into our hearts. When our thoughts drift back to the fear, we gently bring our focus back to the promise.
- Take one small step of faith
Finally, we ask, “If I trusted, even a little, that you are keeping watch over me, Lord, what is one small step I could take today?” Maybe we make a phone call we’ve been avoiding, give our child a bit of space, turn off the constant news feed, or simply go to sleep trusting that God will stay awake. We don’t try to fix everything in one day; we just take the next faithful step.
As we walk through this Lenten season, we will still lock our doors, buckle our seatbelts, and do what love requires in protecting one another. Yet we do not have to live trapped inside fear. The God who kept watch over pilgrims on desert roads continues to watch over us as we go out and come in, today and forevermore. May we journey in that protection and discover that life with God is larger, freer, and more generous than fear could ever allow.
Prayer:
God of protection and provision, who through the presence of the Holy Spirit assures your love for us, grant us ability to recognize our anxious or fearful hearts so that by faith, we might walk confidently in the way of Jesus, with whom you and the Holy Spirit reign, one God forever and ever. Amen.
The Reverend Dale R. Cohen is Senior Pastor at the First United Methodist Church of Florence, Alabama and serves on the Huntingdon College Board of Trustees.
