In today’s Word on Wednesday, we are treated to a beautiful reminder that we are held by the Lord, even when the earth disappears beneath our feet.

“So do not be afraid. I am with you. Do not be terrified. I am your God. I will make you strong and help you. I will hold you safe in my hands.” Isaiah 41:10, NIRV

 “Keep your eyes on my back. Don’t look down. Hold your throttle steady. You’ll be fine!” Patrick’s voice filtered through the padding of my helmet. 

He returned to his four-wheeler, threw a leg over the seat and nodded back at me before revving his engine. He zipped to the other side of the ravine and waited with our friends.

 I stared at the hairpin bend ahead, then side-eyed the sheer drop.

The mountain view would be spectacular, but our four-wheeling trip stretched my fear of heights to the limit. 

I thumbed the throttle. 

Don’t look down don’t look down don’t look down.

Halfway around the curve, I glanced down the mountain. 

The canyon yawned up at me, magnetic. Couldn’t look away. My hand slipped off the gas. The helmet weighed a hundred pounds. Like a bobble-head figurine, I tipped off my ATV.  

Time slowed, like a movie. I twisted through honey-thick air and watched the little green vehicle follow me off the mountain. I tried to swim away, but time regained its hold. The ground rose to meet me with a thud that echoed through every bone. Before I could roll away, the four-wheeler landed on top of me. 

I inhaled. Lungs still worked.  

Tried to move. Couldn’t. My head inside the helmet, the helmet under a wheel. 

Pinned against the ground, I saw only green. Green moss, green ATV. 

Then, a boot.  

Like a comic book superhero, Patrick lifted the four-wheeler and tossed it aside. 

“You okay?” He checked me over. Not a scratch.

Our guide decided we’d take the easy trail home through the valley. Wait.There was an easy trail?

I looked back at the spot I’d fallen. Among bone-cracking rocks and stumps lay a depression in the ground the exact shape of the hollow of a palm. A giant hand, cushioned with moss and layered with leaves, waited to catch me. Cradle me. 

Instead of broken, I was held. 

My life’s expected mountaintop experiences have been often interrupted—not by life’s valleys, but by sheer drops.

Certain God wanted us to adopt first, we pursued all avenues. For an entire decade, every attempt failed.

We considered a baby. My doctor said, “Lupus.” 

Dad’s surgery was successful. Less than an hour later, it wasn’t. 

My vibrant sister moved to New York. I imagined weekend trips and reconnection. With no warning, she stepped into eternity. 

Mountaintop plans, all disrupted by mountain falls.

For two decades, the memory of sailing through the air—and of the landing—has carried me through loss and heartache. Every time it comes to mind, I remember a line from an old hymn. “He will keep me from all danger in the hollow of His hand.” 

Life’s sheer drops are terrifying, but each one ends in the same place. Held. 

No matter what, I’m held in the safest place imaginable: God’s palm. 

Even in the most frightening, difficult, heartbreaking circumstances, we can trust God to catch us. We can believe his promise. We’re held. 

Have you experienced an unexpected mountain fall? Maybe the ground is dropping away beneath you now. You’re not alone, my friend. If you need someone to pray for you, feel free to send a message or let us know below.

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