God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
–Psalm 46:1
He was hanging by a thread—literally.
Climbing ropes unable to withstand the freezing temperatures of high altitudes, they’d began to unthread in protest to the conditions. He’d looked up at his lines to have his stomach make the 14,000 foot drop for him: he was dangling by what was left of a red climbing rope.
Suddenly, climbing alone wasn’t such a good idea.
Any sudden movements, and he’d be toast. Squashed toast. Any cries for help, and he chanced an icy avalanche. The gravity of the situation, ironically, cut his cord.
So, he did the only thing he could do.
He prayed.
“God,” he began, “You know my situation here. I’m at the end of my rope. Please, I need your help. I’m asking for mercy. Please, help me!”
Soon, the cold air blowing around him, he began to tire. His body ached from dangling and the wind began to howl a lonely, grievous song. Within hours he was asleep beginning to realize that if he didn’t fall to his death, the cold would kill him.
Then, the wind began to sing a strange song—the song of man. It played on his ears and began to arouse him. Soon, he was awake, warmth slowly ebbing from his body. No longer could he feel his toes or fingers. His goatee had long since frozen stiff into place. The walls of the mountainous hills around him began to echo.
“Hello! Hey! Up there, hello! Sir!?” It was men, coming from below. He could barely move to see them, to make any sort of contact. It seemed as if the cold had stolen his voice and frozen his lips closed. Relief hit him like a wave as if he’d went to Malibu instead of the mountains.
“We’re sending someone up there to help you! Hang on! Help is on the way!”
Thank you, God, he prayed silently.
Yes, thank God.
So often life throws us into a mess of chaos; whether its grief, financial trouble, relationships, or just plain bad luck. It feels as if our stress-o-meters have topped out and we’re doing 180 mph in the car we call life, spinning slowly out of control, that our track has turned into a maze with no end instead of an ordinary circle.
When life gives us these moments, our emotions swell. We sometimes feel as if the world is ending and we have no one to talk to. No one who can help us. No one to make the pain of abuse go away, or no one to help us break free of drug addiction. No one to help us curb the thoughts running amuck in our heads.
I’m here to tell you that there is someone greater than all of this.
His name is Jesus. He cares so much for us—so much so that He knows the number of hair on our heads and delicately set the universe in balance so we could live on Earth and not fry (or freeze!) in oblivion. He cared enough to die in our place on Calvary—a Prince of Royal blood out to save a people who mocked him and tried multiple times to kill Him.
Jesus wants to take on our problems—every last one. From big to small, He wants to hold them all! When we’re at the end of our rope, dangling above dangerous circumstances—which are painfully fearful—all He requires of us it to call out to Him and ask for Him to take the driver’s seat and steer us out of danger—He wants us to hand over the clutch and let Him handle the speed, direction, and navigation of our lives.
All we have to do is cry out, and He is our present help in a time of trouble.
He’s our cliffhanger, and He owns the cliffs.
