Level ground...

and standing on The solid rock.

Friends who know me well are familiar with my propensity to be upright and mobile one minute, and on the ground wincing the next. I've always been a little clumsy; a chronic autoimmune disorder and more than a few rounds of chemotherapy have caused an accompanying loss of feeling in my feet and amplified this not-so-charming trait. So I steer clear of high heels except on the rarest of occasions, and when I can, I stick to level ground.

Except these days, the ground seems to be shifting everywhere I walk.

Things I've unconsciously relied on all my life to be fixed, stable, level...are simply not anymore. I was trained as a journalist and have made my living with words, but I no longer believe much of what I read or hear that comes labeled "breaking news." (It's never just "news"...everything is always “breaking”, which seems an apt metaphor for our times.)

The wisdom of science is heralded—almost worshiped—but "the science" about many things seems to change hourly, depending on which scientist is speaking, and to whom. Gender is considered a fluid precept, most definitely no longer an either/or proposition, or one confirmed by nature. Civil and criminal laws are viewed as fungible, and arbitrarily enforced if at all. The locus of truth has moved from a fixed place of spiritual or civil authority to the sphere of individual proclamation. Common words once widely understood have all but lost their meaning. Little seems certain anymore.

I know my own soul too well to believe that I can count on my human strength to keep me from falling, especially when the ground is shifting beneath my feet. I have serious limitations where uprightness is concerned, and not just physical ones. I love level ground, but these days demand a higher love, and one that burns hotter than the all the fires around me.

When I was a little girl we sang these words on Sunday: On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand; all other ground is sinking sand. I sang them then. I sing them now. It's time to live as if they are true, because they are.

The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.

Psalm 18:2, NIV