DEVOTION: Our Help Comes from the LORD

¹ I lift up my eyes to the mountains—

    where does my help come from?

² My help comes from the Lord,

    the Maker of heaven and earth.

³ He will not let your foot slip—

    he who watches over you will not slumber;

⁴ indeed, he who watches over Israel

    will neither slumber nor sleep.

⁵ The Lord watches over you—

    the Lord is your shade at your right hand;

⁶ the sun will not harm you by day,

    nor the moon by night.

⁷ The Lord will keep you from all harm—

    he will watch over your life;

⁸ the Lord will watch over your coming and going

    both now and forevermore.

Psalm 121

What are we communicating with our body language when we hang our heads? Assuming we’re not looking for something we dropped or checking our footwear, eyes down for students in a classroom means don’t call on me. At other places and times it may mean something more serious: I’m feeling low. I’m feeling down. I’ve hit rock bottom, you know, all those directional type phrases that indicate sadness. And there’s something else. Heads down can mean we don’t want to make eye contact with anyone else, in other words, Leave me alone. 

There’s a lot in this world that may lead us to hang our heads. The stress from work, from a challenging relationship, from moving to a new place: if the weight of stress becomes overwhelming, we may sense our heads beginning to hang. Pain can do it, especially the kind of pain that doctors can’t fix, the kind you just have to bear, the kind that affects a person’s mood – not just physical pain, but emotional pain, spiritual pain, the pain that comes with grief at the loss of someone or something you loved. We hang our heads when we are overwhelmed with sadness that we can’t fix. 

And remember the other thing it can mean when we hang our heads: Leave me alone. Isn’t it strange that when we are down, we often want to be left alone? But we do. It’s like we think that if we carry our problems all by ourselves without telling anyone, then we are going to get some kind of award. Here comes the award for suffering. First place. Give it to me. Nobody ever suffered as much as me. There is no such award. We know that, but we still act this way.

Spiritually speaking, there’s a reason why we may want to be left alone: it’s pride. In our sinful flesh we think: I can handle my problems. I can take care of myself. Don’t give me advice. Don’t tell me what to do. We say it to other people. We even say it to God. And so suffering becomes an opportunity for sinful pride to hold sway in our hearts. We’ve all allowed this kind of sin in our hearts. Shame on us.

Listen to the psalmist in verse 1: I lift up my eyes to the mountains - where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.

Imagine for a moment that you’re outside on a beautiful day, looking up at the sky. For a moment, your mind is not on the problems weighing on your heart. Or maybe it’s night time, and you’re looking up at the stars, trying to see the Big Dipper. The longer you look, and the more you think, you can’t help but notice how vast our universe is, and how powerful God must be to have made it. We know it well: God is all-powerful. He can do anything. We know very well what this means. It means God can help us with absolutely anything.

But there’s something even better we can remember about the LORD. He set his power aside. It happened at Christmas. The one who created the heavens and the earth became a helpless, gurgling baby lying on his back in a makeshift cradle, gazing up through the ceiling boards at the very stars he created. It happened on Good Friday. The one who gives life and takes it away let his own life be ripped away from him at the hands of his enemies. And he did it all for us. He took away all our sin. He took away all our shame.

Fellow believers, God loves us, and he always will. It’s true whether we lift our eyes to the hills or not. Even while our heads are still hanging low, because we’re caught in the weird sin of pride that refuses help even when we really need it, even then, God remains all-powerful and all-loving. Even then, he is our Savior from all sin. 

In him, we are new people. Fellow saints of God, we are baptized into God’s name. When we were baptized, God gave us eyes that look up, not just at the stars or the clouds. He gave us eyes that look to him. He also gave us ears to listen to his Word. 

And what a beautiful, life-saving Word it is. As the psalmist says in verses 3-4: The LORD will not let your foot slip, he who watches over you will not slumber; indeed he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. You and I sleep every night. About one third of our lives in this world is spent sleeping. God doesn’t sleep. He doesn’t even get tired. He doesn’t yawn or get bored with what we’re doing. Why? Because we are his Israel. Together with all believers, we are his chosen people, just like the Israelites of the Old Testament. The psalmist goes on to tell us in verses 5-8 that the LORD is your shade, your protection. Think of God’s almighty power at work creating all things. Now think of that same power, only now he’s using it to push evil away from you and keep you safe. This is who he is. This is what he does. 

There’s plenty in this world that can lead a person to hang their head. Fellow believers, let’s not pretend we don’t need help. We are forgiven sinners, dear children of God. On good days and on bad ones, and even at those times when we feel completely overwhelmed, let’s join the psalmist in saying with confidence: Where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, the maker of heaven and earth. As surely as Jesus lives, he will help us. He will watch over us. He will protect us. And the day is coming when he will bring us home.

+++

Author: Pastor Jon Zabell

Copyright (c) 2025, St. Paul Lutheran Church, Green Bay, WI 54301

Bible text, NIV (c) Biblia, 2011

Photo: Image by 匡 嘉骏 from pixabay.com. Used by permission