We were born to know our creator. To search after God and to know Him. From the Fight Club team at Passion City Church comes The Climb, a reading plan through the first 20 Psalms to help you do exactly that. Join us as we begin a new journey of discovering the attributes of God as we fight together for a deeper relationship with Him.

A few years ago, I took a rafting trip through the Grand Canyon. Gliding down the Colorado River with billion-year-old rock faces standing impressively on either side of me, I remember feeling an incredible sense of wonder and fear; this was not a journey to be taken lightly. Here’s the thing though; during the week we were on the river, not once did I have to navigate the rapids on my own or climb the cliff walls to the campsite wondering what was around the corner.

I had a guide. 

Craig Lutkey is a legend, a real-life cowboy who works as a river guide in the summer and a ski patrol rescue team leader in the winter. He knows the Canyon better than anyone. He’s lived in it for months at a time and would point out things as small as a downed tree or fallen rock that had shifted since his last time through. He knew the best way to go at every turn, and because of him, so did we. I love that the Psalms open with a beautiful reminder of the guide we have in God, and the opportunity we have to follow Him. Yes, as men, we are going to face all kinds of obstacles on a day-to-day basis, but the promise of Psalm 1 is that if we focus on following God’s way, memorizing His routes and listening to His voice, we will be blessed to have God Almighty watch over our course and lead us.

Take heart today in the truth that you are not alone; God is your guide.

I was 16, I was underwater, and I was stuck.

In the darkness, I scrambled to keep my head away from the rocks as I reached for anything that could help me upright myself or at least orient myself towards the surface. But every effort to break free of the current was taking more effort than it was affording me relief. I was in trouble.

“Hydraulics form in a river as water flows rapidly over a rock and then recirculates on the other side of it,” our instructor had said, “and if you become trapped in it, it doesn’t matter how hard you swim—you can’t force your way out.”

It was the quickest memory of the safety instructions from earlier in the day, but as soon as it flashed across my mind and I relaxed my body, I shot downward and out to where the water was calm enough for me to surface and grab the breath my body was desperate for.

Here’s the truth. I ended up in a place I should have never been that day because I hadn’t listened. There were rules in place for a reason, but I had believed they were for someone else and that obeying them would have meant giving up my “freedom.” After all, I wanted to explore. Sound familiar? How often, like the people in Psalm 2, do we fear giving up the right to do whatever we want? How many times a day do we see, read, or hear someone telling us that obeying God’s way diminishes our lives? The thing is, there are consequences for this kind of lifestyle. God foresaw our pride and installed Jesus on the throne, not to condemn us, but to offer us the chance to surrender to Him. Just as no effort in the middle of the churning water would have freed me from the hydraulic, we cannot live our lives scratching and clawing our way towards blessing.

Our only refuge is in Jesus—in surrendering to Him and obeying His lead as He sets us in calm waters.

I have felt my share of helplessness this year; most of us have.

As men, some of us have cared for loved ones while disease or time ushered them away. We’ve said goodbye to children we never held. We’ve lost jobs we thought were secure. We were betrayed by people in whom we had placed full confidence. Pain isn’t foreign to God. Psalm 3 comes to us from David amid a “hostile takeover,” meaning his son had stolen the kingdom and was searching for David so he could kill him. The one-time king is crying out to God in a moment full of bewildering despair, and yet in the middle of it, he remembers who his God is.

God is a faithful sustainer—THE Sustainer. He does not turn a blind eye to injustice and sweep it under the cosmic carpet. He does not ignore our pain and our suffering that results from sin. He loves the desperate so much that He poured out the wrath due the world onto His own Son so that we could find peace in Him. Circumstances will be difficult and, at times in all of our lives, appear to be unbearable. But God has made way for each of us to find peace in Himself. All we have to do is remember who our God is, and cry out to Him.

He is listening.

How many quiet moments do you have throughout the day?

How many do you create for yourself? When you have them, what do you immediately do? If you’re anything like me, your hand reaches for your phone, towards escapism. Most of us are one step away from being overwhelmed, and we’ve become addicted to distraction. It makes sense—all day, we’re bombarded with demands for our attention, with the world around us clawing at our minds through our eyes and ears. As Psalm 4 says, we have become enamored with false gods and delusions, forgetting along the way our first love.

God, who is our peace.

God, who is our comfort.

God, who, like a deep breath, brings relief.

Listen to the promise of God in Psalm 4. See how God is our relief from distress and tells us to lie down and sleep with full confidence in His truth. Notice that this peace is not contingent upon our circumstances. Instead, God is telling us that if we prayerfully seek His face and breathe in His presence and love, then no matter what comes our way, we can rest knowing that we are safe with Him. Today, let the peace of God rest on you wherever you are: at work, in the gym, or at home. When you find yourself losing that peace, take a deep breath and remember God’s promise. He will be with you through it all.

I used to go camping with my dad once a month.

We would pack up everything into our car and head out after he got home from work. Of course, this meant these Friday nights far from the suburbs started with us setting up our tents as the sun was setting and ended with late-night walks in complete darkness. Out there, in an unknown spot by a river or on a flat portion of the woods, I would reach into a familiar pocket of my backpack for an object of unimaginable worth at that moment: my headlamp. After years of tripping on roots, falling down embankments, or having surprise encounters with any number of animals, I had learned the hard way that walking without a light source was a terrible idea.

Psalm 5 shows us how David considered God in the same way. His lament (a cry for help from deep within) over the people seeking to distract him from God’s way is coupled with a trust that God would not leave him to walk that path alone. He saw God as a refuge, a shelter from the attacks, both mental and physical, of the world around him, and he knew beyond doubt that when he cried out to God, God would lead him home to safety. We can bring our fear and anxiety to God; He is our comfort. We can approach Him with our grief and our pain without fear of rebuke. God will always be there to lead us home to Him, protecting and illuminating our path back to Him every step of the way as we declare the praises of His name.

I can distinctly remember three instances when I was younger when I lied to my parents and got caught.

I’m sure there were more, but these three times are seared into my memory and my conscience. When what I had done came to light, I felt guilty, ashamed, and ultimately helpless.

Though we no longer live under the condemnation of sin and death, we still live in a broken and fallen world where there are real consequences to our sinful actions. When we choose to act on, think about, or desire things that are contrary to God’s holy righteousness, we can find ourselves in difficult situations that infiltrate all areas of our lives. The psalmist understood this reality. He was physically devastated, desperate for God’s kindness and remembrance, and on the edge of despair. And yet, he knew that if God’s answer to our troubles was dependent on our right standing, there would be no hope. So, instead of appealing to man’s strength, he says, “Deliver me for the sake of your steadfast love.” God intervenes on our behalf because of HIS character, not ours. Because of His grace, not our goodness. He sustains our every breath because of His praise, not our performance.

God does not magically make our difficulties disappear. This psalm doesn’t end with a 3-step solution. It ends with a man with a shifted perspective. Once again, God has drawn near. He has turned and heard from Heaven, choosing to sustain us through that which should separate us. God is our great sustainer.

I studied engineering in college.

My freshman year was tough. It was the weed-out year, the year where every Professor in every class I took said some version of, “Look to your left, look to your right; at the end of this semester, one of you won’t be studying engineering.” While a bit dramatic, they weren’t that far off on their claims. Towards the end of that school year, in one of our hardest classes, we were notified of a potential scandal undergoing investigation. A group of students had cheated and copied significant portions of each other’s code. Panic set in, and accusations were quickly cast. Everyone felt under attack and unsure of how this would play out. The only proof we had was our work—the individual code we had written for the assignments. If accused, students would turn in their work as their witness, their vindication for their conduct. I hadn’t cheated or copied anyone. My work was my own. So I turned in my code with confidence, knowing it would prove my innocence.

That’s what the Psalmist says here. He’s been accused and is pending investigation. Instead of turning in his code, he turns to God and says, “O LORD my God, in you do I take refuge.” God was his Witness, his shield (v.10), and his righteous judge (v.11). If our hands are clean, no matter what rises up against us, God will be our best source of comfort and exoneration. His Word and His approval are all that we need. If we have that, we can feel at ease leaving the rest in His capable hands.

I’ll never forget the first time I saw the Dawn Wall of El Capitan at Yosemite National Park. It was spectacular, stunning, awe-invoking. Something about the sheer immensity of the granite face reached deep into my soul and brought forth an ocean of emotion, namely admiration, at the magnificence of the great God who set the stone in its place and who commanded it to stand there for His glory. I felt my own sense of significance dwindle in the face of such unabashed grandeur. And yet, in that smallness, I felt seen and intimately known. This God who carved the canyons and who ran the glaciers in such a way that El Capitan would one day stand guard as His sentinel for His glory and praise, this is the same God who knew my name and heard my prayers and impressed His affection and attention on my heart. He is the God of the titanic and the tiny, the stunning, and the specific. This God knows my name. He knows my story. He’s walked with me, and I with Him. Who am I? Who am I? Who am I?

As I stood there at the base of the Dawn Wall, the tallest granite rock in the world, I felt as if I could relate with David and his dumbfounded awe of God seen in Psalm 8. It may not be Yosemite for you, but I encourage you find someplace or something that reminds you how big God is.

One of the most challenging jobs I’ve ever had was the time I spent as a basketball referee.

I know that sounds like an exaggeration because, for the most part, the actual mechanics of being a referee aren’t that difficult. But here’s what I ultimately learned in that line of work: being a fair and consistent judge is tough, even in a pretty straightforward game like basketball. Enforcing the rules moment by moment on people who intentionally or unintentionally choose to break them can be taxing, tiresome, and a thankless job.

Can you imagine how God must have felt as He called forth a good and glorifying creation, only for mankind to “break the rules” and initiate a cycle of sin and destruction? But God isn’t just a cosmic referee, blowing a whistle and doling out penalties or punishments. He’s the only enthroned King of eternity, established and wholly other. He’s not subjective in His judgment; He is objective in every aspect of His character. He is the law, the standard, the rule by which all creation must bend and bow.

In Genesis 3, the Serpent deceived Eve by asking the first question in all of Scripture: “Did God actually say?” Mere verses later, instead of rewriting the situation and starting over, God chooses to do something miraculous. He asks the second question, “Where are you?” In His righteousness, God established His throne for justice. The enemy would not get the final word. God would judge every sin and every deviation from His goodness through the eventuality of the Cross: the death of His Son and His resulting resurrection. Because of the second question, we can have confidence that He is a stronghold for us, a refuge for those who know His name and who put their trust in Him.

Have you ever felt like God stands far away?

That when you needed Him most, He was nowhere to be found? Many scholars and theologians believe that Psalms 9 and 10 would have likely been connected as one song, which makes this shout of frustration even more relatable. Remember that Psalm 9 was full of joyous language and praise for God’s righteous judgment. But just verses later, maybe even in the same breath of singing, the tables turn. The God who once brought us joy has now become the source of our vexation, our confusion, and our sorrow. Why is He hard to find? Why is He hidden during times of trouble? Anyone who suffers asks some form of this question, and it’s valid. But that doesn’t mean it has to go unanswered.

Throughout Scripture, we consistently see two truths that on their surface seem to be opposed.

The first is that God is actually closer than we think. He is near to the brokenhearted, surrounding the hurting, and comforting the distressed. The second truth is that God is rare. There aren’t infinite paths to God and because of this, He is hard to find.

But here is where we can find comfort today – these two truths are woven perfectly together in Christ and His finished work. As the only true path, Jesus demonstrates God’s exclusivity and rarity. And yet, through His resurrection, all who call on His name can draw near to God and experience His intimate closeness and relationship.

So why is God hard to find? Because He knows that His infinite worthiness demands His exclusivity, which then compels us to lean more fully into the way, the truth, and the life of Jesus. And when we find more of Jesus, we find more of all that we could ever need. More comfort. More hope. More joy. More fullness. More contentment, even in the hardship.

When I was a kid, my dad took me to my first Major League Baseball game down at Fulton County Stadium in Atlanta.

I can still remember almost every detail of it; the walk up to the front gate, the hot dog I ate, and how I just knew a foul ball was heading my way any minute. (It wasn’t, and never has been.)

But even more than the game itself, I can remember the walk back to the car after the game—a memory etched into my mind; because it was that walk when I was first aware of my surroundings enough to notice a man asking for money on the sidewalk. I recall so badly wanting to give this man everything he needed, and being devastated when my dad explained to me that while we could help, we couldn’t do all that I wanted. We didn’t have the means necessary to make this man’s situation right. It was, as far as I can remember, my first glimpse of the injustice in our world.

I am at least two decades older now than I was then, and my understanding of the world has developed, but that doesn’t change the fact that there is a voice inside of me that wrestles with the injustices of the world around me. There are days when it seems like we’re losing the battle, and perhaps good doesn’t always win the day.

But here is the good news:

God is still God, and He is in control.

No matter how hopeless the circumstances seem, God refuses to forsake His people. No matter how dire the situation, He is still in charge. Look at Psalm 11, how David had confidence in God despite the circumstances. Is that the kind of faith you have? The kind that sees the broken world around you and believes that there is still a Righteous Judge in Heaven who despises wickedness and violence, who loves and longs for justice beyond what your human heart could desire, and who has the power to set things right? Mind-blowingly, you and I can know this God and be used by Him to bring about justice in our world. So take heart. God is a Righteous Judge, and He will set things in order.

God’s business is putting things right;

he loves getting the lines straight,

Setting us straight. Once we’re standing tall,

we can look him straight in the eye.

Psalm 11:7 The Message

Wake up in the morning, enable cruise control.

Turn on the news, hear an opinion.

Turn on SportsCenter, pay half-attention to a commercial.

Listen to a podcast on the way to work, notice billboards along the way.

Get to work, chat with your boss, your employees and your friends.

Listen to talk radio on the way home from work.

Catch up over dinner with your wife, your kids or your roommate.

Sit in front of the TV for an hour or so.

Turn off cruise control and head to bed.

Another day gone.

How many directions are you pulled in throughout a single day? How many opinions seek to influence your path? How many people are telling you what you need, what you can’t live without? How many hot takes or bits of advice are thrown your way? For most of us, our days are LOUD. They are never-ending streams of information and entertainment meant to capture our attention and focus it wherever the person who paid the most for those 30 seconds wants it. So is it really even a question why we feel “bored, vexed, frantic, embittered and sniffling,” as Tom Howard put it? How is it that we as modern men have become, “a bleak business?”

Psalm 12 answers our question, and although David wrote it thousands of years ago, it provides us with timely words to express some of our frustration. “No one is faithful anymore,” “everyone lies to their neighbor.” These statements could just as easily have been written yesterday about our world. So what are we supposed to do? Do we keep searching for the next best teacher or author to align our lives with, and hope they are the ones telling the truth? No.

God has already given us a North Star in our darkness. Himself in His Word.

We are not meant to wander through life directionless and purposeless, and we don’t have to. We can focus our attention on God and His Word. His very speech is flawless and will protect us from the skewed opinions and outright lies of the world. What God says is trustworthy and worth believing. We can measure everything we listen to in life against it. We can identify the lies in our daily lives, and reject them when they fail to sync up with what God says. Hold on to His promises and trust in His guarantees. He will never lead you astray. This is how we as men will spend our lives well, wringing out every bit of life in the time God gives us as we live following His Word and way.

Without thinking too much about it, answer this question:

“Hey man, how are you?”

I’m going to guess you said, “I’m good!,” maybe even, “I’m great!” I’m also going to guess that you’ve answered that way almost every time someone has asked you that question in life, and truly meant it maybe 50% of the time.

The truth is, it’s okay to not be okay.

I spent the first thirty years of my life believing that when I wasn’t okay, that meant something was wrong with me. I wasn’t strong enough, manly enough, not nearly godly enough. I bought into the lie that if I wasn’t out there with a smile on my face and a worship song on my lips then I must not be as close to God as my friends.

But look at Psalm 13.

The Psalms are songs, not theological essays, and they express the psalmists’ honest thoughts and heartfelt emotions. In this song, read how David expressed his anguish to God as he repeatedly asked, “How long?” David was exhausted and weary, and his questions represent a tearful plea for God to be present rather than an actual desire for answers. Similarly, Jesus called out to God in desperation. He told His disciples, those closest to Him, that His soul was, “overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.”

These scriptural accounts validate our human need to express ourselves openly, honestly, transparently to God. But they show us even more than that. Both David and Jesus didn’t merely lament, they went further and declared their willingness to trust in God in the middle of their hardships.

God wants to hear from you. He wants to know when you feel like a ship tossed around by waves in the night. He doesn’t ask you to keep your anxiety or anger from Him, and He doesn’t put a requirement on you to only bring your best attitude to Him. God wants your honesty, and He wants your heart. He longs for you to know that He is your harbor when the winds are calm, and when the sea is raging. It’s when we look to Him as our safety in the storm that our songs ring out in the good times, and the trying. His love is unfailing, and your heart can rejoice in the salvation He purchased on your behalf.

I don’t know if you’ve had this feeling, but I’d bet everything that you have. Maybe it was in the quiet of a fresh morning. Perhaps it was in the chaos of a night lived well with friends. It could have been in an arena with tens of thousands. Maybe it was halfway up a mountainside on a hike. Wherever it was, I’d bet that the feeling came upon you so quickly that you needed a second to recognize it, almost like catching your breath. The feeling?

God is near.

I think it’s entirely possible that as Christians, as men of God, we could read Psalm 14 and scoff at the “fools.” How could anyone say in their heart, “There is no God?” How could someone become so focused on the idols surrounding them that they overlook the true God entirely?

How foolish of them. We would never.

(Anyone else just wince?)

How many times this week have you felt the pull of pride tempting you to govern your own life? How often do we choose what we want to do over what God has called us to do? We rebel in big and small ways every day, exercising what Tim Keller would call practical atheism—acting as if we are on the same level or know more about ourselves than God.

This is destructive. When we forgo asking God for His wisdom and guidance and go our own way, we cease to seek after God.

But there is good news.

God wants to be found, and so He does not condemn us for our rebellion. Our internal desire for eternity (Ecclesiastes 3:11) is a reminder that God wants us to search for Him and to find Him. Will there be moments when you realize you have once again strayed from God’s path? Yes, but God is still present and patient with you. His mercies are new each morning, and His grace is sufficient to lead you back to Him. Don’t ever forget that while it is true that being a man after God’s heart means fighting alongside your brothers to draw near to God, He has always already made the first move towards intimacy with you through the sacrifice of Jesus.

God is near to you today, Brother. Rejoice in the salvation He purchased for you.

I’m not exactly sure when I started watching The Masters.

Unlike some of my friends, I didn’t grow up with a golf-watching dad. My guess is that some spring while in high school, home alone, I turned on the TV and stopped flipping through channels when I heard that familiar piano melody start playing. If you know the one, you can hear it in your head.

I was hooked, and ever since then I’ve looked forward to what I call, “the best week in sports,” every year. I make everyone be quiet when Masters commercials come on, I watch old Masters footage on YouTube reliving tournaments from before I was even born, and my two-year-old son knows that the Masters logo means, “golf game!”

I tell you all of this so you’ll understand what I mean when I tell you that when my father-in-law handed me a pass to Augusta National for the 2017 Masters, I held it as if I was holding the Hope Diamond.

Surely there was nothing more valuable in the world than this piece of paper. This golden ticket would allow me to simply walk into a place I had only dreamed about before that moment.

Here’s the thing: I could have never played my way into Augusta National. And similarly, none of us could ever earn our way into the Holy presence of God.

Look at the requirements listed in Psalm 15 to enter the sacred tent, to dwell on the Mountain of God. Could you make your way through that list and check every box? The stunning truth of the Gospel is that the only One who could have, did, and then He chose to pay the price of entry on your behalf. The righteousness that was on Jesus, His perfect record, was gifted onto us through His sacrifice.

This doesn’t mean that as men of God we don’t try to live out the tenets of Psalm 15. We should do our best to do what is righteous, to speak only the truth, to refuse to slander our neighbors and to properly fear the Lord. But in doing so we should seek to understand our rightful place in the equation of Heaven; that we did not earn our ticket; our entrance was purchased by Jesus and given to us through Him. There was no performance worthy of dwelling in God’s sacred tent. We were invited in through the blood of Jesus.

Thank you, God.

They’re becoming a thing of the past, but I love a good potluck meal.

I grew up in the Midwest, where you’d be hard-pressed to find a large gathering of people that didn’t consist of a potluck meal, with most dishes made from grandmothers’ recipes being served out of Crock-Pots or passed-down Pyrex pans.

While potlucks can make for good, if not adventurous, meals, it took me a long time to realize that my life and relationship with God is nothing like a potluck dinner. Growing up, I thought that living righteously was a combination of a lot of different dishes – a dash of purity, a spoonful of self-control, a dollop of reading my Scripture. I thought that the goal was to end up with some version of good works mixed with a little bit of God’s blessing. But like David says in Psalm 16, I eventually learned that I am unable to bring any good to the table. Apart from God, I would be a vessel of darkness.

This idea of being utterly empty of good apart from God is hard for us to grapple with because we have a high risk of accepting a disoriented definition of goodness. 

The world associates goodness with things like morality and kindness. However, we know from Scripture that which is good is that which glorifies God. And in our sinful, broken flesh, we can’t do that. Not even one inch of our hearts or ounce of our love could glorify God before He redeemed us. In His grace, through His salvation, He has given us the opportunity to both experience and reflect His goodness.

Your relationship with God is not a potluck where you bring your best, and He brings His. No, the good news is God brings the whole meal! He brings every dish, every utensil. He brings the table, the decorations, even the music. He brings it all and invites you to sit down and delight because He is the Source of all good.

I can remember standing at the bottom of a cave, looking down at a hole barely big enough for a person to fit through, and thinking to myself, “I’m supposed to crawl down into that?”

My friends and I had decided to go spelunking on a random property tucked away in Southern Indiana. Geared up with our headlamps, hard hats, kneepads, and a good dose of youthful courage, we were ready for our adventure. We trekked deep into this network of caves, crawling for a hundred feet on our hands and knees with rocks inches about our heads. Eventually, the rocks opened up, and we came to a cavern. We sat there, regrouped, and then, one by one, we turned off our headlamps. It was absolute darkness. We spent time praying and calling out to God in that cave. And that day, we experienced what it felt like to be hidden from the world.

When David prayed, “Hide me in the shadow of your wings,” he wasn’t repeating some pretty and poetic line he’d heard. He was desperately begging God to protect him and to keep him safe. He was facing danger on every side from enemies who wanted his life, so he needed to know that God could and would make him secure.

Most of us are blessed to not often feel the threat of imminent, physical danger. However, that should not hinder our need to find spiritual safety and security in God. 

The enemy is constantly on attack, and his arrows are still coming at us. But thanks be to God that He is our cave, our refuge, and His wings shadow us so that we may feel safe as we are hidden in His presence.

Every year, our FIGHT CLUB team puts on a few larger gatherings that we call FIGHT NIGHT. Of the years, I think many would say the best thing we’ve ever hosted was a real, full-scale bull-riding competition…. in our auditorium here at Passion City Church! We planned, prepared, and got everything ready, but when that first bull came in through the back doors, strutting into our building, we suddenly had a new perspective of power.

During the days of David, in Middle Eastern culture, the ox was one of the strongest, toughest, and most dangerous animals.

Often used for agrarian work, oxen were revered and held in high respect as powerful and daunting animals. In that day and age, the symbol of the strength of the ox was best represented in the ox’s horns.

The horns of a wild ox were like iron, sharp and unbreakable. They were a type of severe strength and a symbol of victory in battle and conflict. Three times in this Psalm, David refers to God as his “shield,” and God very much is our shield. He is our defense and our protection. But He is also our horn of salvation. He didn’t sit back and just play defense against the enemy’s schemes. He demonstrated His power, like the power of the horn of the ox, and through His Son, He conquered sin and the grave and destroyed the sting of death once and for all.

God is not only protecting you; He is also brimming with power and authority and strength and He is fighting for you. He is a sure sign of victory, and He uses His “horn” to secure and establish His people through His effective and eternal salvation.

I can remember when my wife and I were ten thousand feet above sea level, standing on the balcony of the overlook on Mt. Titlis in Switzerland, gazing in wonder at the Alps spiraling up before us. Snow-capped, towering, magnificent peaks. Tears formed in the corner of my eyes, soon to be frozen by the chilled air. At that moment, I was having a revelation that these mighty mountains stood day and night with one purpose: giving glory to a Great God.

Every mountain range of Earth stands straight and tall whether you or I gaze upon their beauty or not. The stars in the heavens shine each night with no concern if they are observed by human eyes. Trees grow, winds whip, and the seas roar with wave after wave, not because of the merit of humanity but because they are motivated to glorify the God who is immensely inspiring!

Have you ever paused and thought about the fact that God is so good, so righteous, so strong, so kind and gentle, so holy, so pure, so caring, and so incredibly creative, powerful, and intentional that the heavens and the sky can’t help but declare and proclaim His glory? The entire universe is captivated by His person and His work, so much so that since the very beginning of time, every single day has poured forth speech, and every single night has revealed knowledge of this great God. And it’s still not enough.

Humans have spent a large amount of effort, time, and focus trying to learn how to master and bend nature to our bidding. What if instead of trying to make creation more like us, we became more like creation?

What if our hearts were so captivated by the immensely inspiring God that every moment of our lives was a symphony of praise and glory?

At many points in our lives, we find ourselves having put our trust in something other than God. 

That’s the reality of imperfect people living in a broken world. I don’t know what you trusted in, whether it was how much you had in your bank account, the level of responsibility you carried in your job, or what type of family you were raising. For the people back during the times of this Psalm, it’s clear they were trusting in the military might of chariots and the high societal status and good financial security that came with owning horses.

For me, I’m prone to trust in my own self-sufficiency. I’ve grown up fighting to prove to myself that I am strong enough and smart enough to break through any barriers that might stand in my way.

But as David explains, which I can verify from my personal experience, it’s dangerous to trust in anything other than God. Because when we do, we are heading down a path that only has one destination: falling into total collapse.

Though we will all be tempted to misplace our trust, we can take courage that there is a source of full trustworthiness, someone who has never once failed to enact His promises or carry out His Word. In fact, His trustworthiness goes beyond simply following through on His claims. If we put our trust in the Lord our God, Scripture says that we will rise. Don’t miss this. His trustworthiness is actually the catapult that sends us higher and, as a result, closer to Himself. We rise and stay standing, fully secure with both feet on solid, unshakable ground.