I lift up my eyes to the heavens. Where does my help from? My help comes from You, Lord, Maker of heaven and earth. I know you will not allow my foot to be moved. I trust my entire being in Your care, because You watch over me tenderly, and You neither slumber nor sleep.
Lord, You are my Keeper, closely guarding and sheltering me. Because of You, neither the sun or moon, nor any force of the day or night can harm me. You are the secure fortress that keeps my fragile soul, and You preserve me wholly when I step out and when I come in. Lord, thank You, and please continue to be my Ever-present Help, now and forever more. Amen.
At a point in my walk it dawned on me that I had been trying to play chess with God. I had been trying to get a ‘feel’ of how He works, when He moves, and how He moves, and what He moves for; So I could make my decisions with His moves in mind – no, not against Him – that would be worse than ridiculous; It’s more like we’re on the same team with no well-defined captain, and whoever moves first plays. Clearly, I haven’t exactly understood the concept of surrender or yielding. It’s a very frustrating game to play; with my mind telling me I ought to be winning and my conscience asking me what I think I’m doing. My eyes see clearly that things are not going the way I expect, but my hand keeps moving anyways, making the next best move even as I ask God why He isn’t playing.