“I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the LORD, which made heaven and earth.”
The Shelter
This psalm opens with a deliberate, physical act: lifting the eyes. Grief has a way of keeping the eyes down, fixed on the immediate ground, the immediate loss, the immediate weight. This verse describes a choice to look elsewhere, up toward the hills, a physical posture that mirrors an internal turn toward help beyond what the immediate view offers.
Notice the question this opening implies, and the answer that immediately follows it: from whence cometh my help. The psalmist does not leave this question hanging or answer it vaguely. My help cometh from the LORD, which made heaven and earth, specific, immediate, unambiguous. The lifted eyes find an actual answer, not merely a change of scenery.
This is worth practicing literally, not only metaphorically. The physical act of lifting your eyes, looking up and out rather than only down and inward, can be part of what makes this turn actually possible, not a replacement for genuine trust but a small, embodied practice that can accompany it.
Whatever has kept your eyes down today, the immediate grief, the immediate weight, consider this simple, ancient practice. Lift your eyes. The help you are looking for has a name, a maker of heaven and earth, and it is not found only by staring at the ground that has held your grief.
Take Refuge
- Physically lift your eyes today, literally, as a deliberate act.
- Name specifically that your help comes from the LORD, not from the ground you have been staring at.
- Notice one thing today that this lifted gaze reveals that the downward gaze had missed.
Prayer
Lord, I lift my eyes to you today, away from the ground that has held my grief. My help comes from you, maker of heaven and earth. Amen.
Carry this today
Lift the eyes. The help has a name, and it is not found looking only down.