Where Does My Help Come From?

             In my last post, I told you about my Papa and our love of gardening together.  He often commented that people were going to think he was terrible to his granddaughter, because I often kept working on those pesky weeds even when he had stopped to take a break.  When the strawberries came in, he often scolded me for eating more than I put in the basket.  Fortunately, he always said that with a smile on his face.

            After his heart attack when I was about 81/2, things were different.  He had little energy for gardening, so my uncle tried to take over some of the work, but things just weren’t the same. Then, one bright, sunshiny July day, the unthinkable happened.  Papa collapsed right in the middle of his precious strawberry patch. 

            Once again, I wasn’t quite sure what was happening, but I knew it was bad.  My Mom was crying as she ushered me, my little brother, and some of my cousins onto our breezeway, away from all the commotion in the garden.  Unlike my afternoon of fear, when I didn’t know what to do if Papa collapsed, this time I knew exactly what to do.  I quickly grabbed my brother’s hand and dragged him and my cousins into a circle.  As we held hands, I prayed for my precious Papa.  At 8 ½, I was the oldest, so we must have been quite a sight, standing in that circle.  I made everyone bow their heads and shut their eyes.  Then, I prayed. 

            Unlike the afternoon that I spent in fear of the what-ifs, that afternoon, I knew this was a problem only Jesus could fix. 

            “I lift up my eyes to the hills—where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip—he who watches over you will not slumber;” (Psalm 121:1 – 3 NIV84).

I doubt that I had learned that passage at that early age, but I had already been taught that Jesus was the one to turn to for help.  Unfortunately, my Papa passed away that afternoon, but I’ve never forgotten that little prayer circle.  Over the years, prayer has carried me through many difficult seasons.  Though not all prayers are answered the way that we would like, I am still confident that my help is from the Lord and that He never slumbers.  He watches “over your coming and going both now and forevermore” (Psalm 121:8b, NIV84).

Psalm 121