I Will Lift Up Mine Eyes Unto the Hills

When you need to remember — that You're still my Shepherd.

You can spend the day with your eyes pointed at small screens and still feel small. The horizon does not show up on a feed. You forget to look up — at the sky, at the hills, at where help actually comes from. By the end of the day you are tired in a way that goes deeper than the body. You do not need a longer rest. You need to lift your eyes to the hills and remember that your help comes from the One who made heaven and earth — the One who keeps you and never sleeps.

This song of ascent is the prayer pilgrims sang as they climbed toward Jerusalem. It opens with the lifted eyes: "I will lift up my eyes unto the hills — from whence comes my help. My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth." The hills around Jerusalem could have meant danger (bandits) or pagan worship. The pilgrim looks past them to the One who made heaven and earth. Then the keeping language begins: "He will not suffer your foot to be moved; He that keeps you will not slumber. Behold, He that keeps Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep." Not slumber. Not sleep. He who keeps you is constantly on watch — there is no shift change in heaven. The personal turn follows: "The Lord is your keeper; the Lord is your shade upon your right hand. The sun shall not smite you by day, nor the moon by night." Right-hand shade is travel imagery — protection from the heat that wears pilgrims down on long walks. He is right next to you, walking the heat with you. The close lands wide and tender: "The Lord shall preserve you from all evil; He shall preserve your soul. The Lord shall preserve your going out and your coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore." Going out and coming in. Every threshold you cross. He preserves the doorways and the in-between.

• Right now, lift your eyes literally — look up from whatever screen you are on — and say out loud: "My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth." • Write this down: "What screen-sized horizon have I been mistaking for the actual horizon?" • Repeat this line when fatigue closes you in: "He that keeps you will not slumber."

Stop. Breathe. Let a Keeper who never sleeps take the watch you have been holding alone, then tell Him exactly where you need your eyes lifted — out loud if you can.

God, I will lift up my eyes unto the hills — from whence comes my help. My help comes from You, the One who made heaven and earth — and I keep forgetting to look there. You are my keeper, and You do not slumber or sleep, even when I do. Be my shade upon my right hand, walking the heat with me on every long stretch. Preserve my going out and my coming in, every threshold of this day, and every one after it forever. You're still my Shepherd.

The Keeper of Israel does not slumber — your help made heaven and earth.