Life is, and always has been, a series of ups and downs. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never personally gone on such a continuous elevator ride as I have with the impact of Covid. I’ve been on much wilder rides, but never one that upset the basic rhythms of life for such a prolonged period as Covid has.
One day the numbers here are low, and hope goes high. The next, there’s an outbreak, a more deadly variant, or you learn you’ve been exposed, and hope plummets to the basement. Through it all is the constant uncertainty, the sense of being trapped in this elevator, hardly knowing if it’s safe to press any button, if any floor is the right one.
Uncertainty is a hard thing to tackle. It won’t stand still and give you a target. It can smile at you one minute, and bare its teeth in a snarl the next. It leaves you constantly off-balance, edgy, restless, looking in vain for a little stretch of solid ground that won’t turn out to be quicksand.
In this what-feels-like endless elevator era, I’ve discovered the only remedy for my motion sickness is to go straight to the highest level, the penthouse. There, Jesus reminds me that though everything else is uncertain, He is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. He never changes. I can count on that; I can count on Him.
Jesus will never abandon me. He loves me to the ultimate, and won’t backtrack. Nothing will be able to disrupt or derail His eternal plans for me. He is the solid rock on which I can stand and not be shaken. He holds me by His right hand.
The wilder the elevator ride, the more I go to the penthouse, where my assurance, comfort and hope are elevated instead of my blood pressure,
That’s the elevation that makes all the difference.