We walked down the gently sloping hill into the flat plain below, a group of us, and I was among the oldest in the group. Making careful progress, someone said to me that the climb back up would be harder.
After we completed our exercise, the group turned toward the hill that now didn’t look quite so gentle to me. It appeared more daunting. I anticipated the struggle as we began to climb upward.
Just then a man walked up beside me and offered me his arm. He is young, young enough to be my son. He is strong from working out in the gym. And he is surefooted.
Holding to his muscled arm, I suddenly felt able, assured that I would make it up this hill, even if it was a challenge and my breathing would be heavy by the end. Because now I didn’t walk alone. I walked with a companion who was bigger than me. He was capable. He was tenacious. And suddenly I was secure.
How often we are faced with a hill, a mountain, something that looks unattainable or even unimaginable. We start the climb and wonder if we will make it to the top.
And then we feel the strong arm of the Lord offered to us.
We never walk alone, though honestly, sometimes it has seemed as if I were deserted and abandoned. But the truth is I am not alone. And in my weakness, the strong arm of the Lord is ever present to give me strength, to make me sure-footed, to catch me when I slip.
We never walk alone. Never.
He is a sure and stable friend and Savior, and He will take me to higher ground.
Even if He has to pick me up and carry me.