This morning, I didn’t have strength to be poetic.

I didn’t have words that sounded polished or put together.

I just had a quiet, desperate thought echoing in my heart:

“I look to the hills… where does my help come from?”

Because let’s be honest, the world can’t help me.

People can’t help me.

And if I’m being honest… I can’t even help myself.

I felt empty. Worn. Small.

Like I had reached the end of everything I had to give.

And then I remembered the rest of the verse.

“My help comes from the Lord,

the Maker of heaven and earth.”

~ Psalm 121:1–2

Not my own strength.

Not my own plans.

Not my own ability to “figure it out.”

My help comes from the One who made the hills I’m looking at.

The One who holds the sky, the ground beneath my feet, and the fragile places inside my heart.

So today, I didn’t climb.

I didn’t strive.

I didn’t pretend I was okay.

I just looked up.

And that was enough.

Jesus, I don’t have the answers today. I don’t have the energy. I don’t even have the right words. But I have You. Lift my eyes when my heart feels heavy. Remind me that my help doesn’t come from this world – it comes from You, the Maker of all things and the Keeper of my soul. Amen. 🤍