God Is My Refuge: When Life Feels Like Zorbing
Have you ever felt like the ground has disappeared from under you, leaving you to float in uncertainty or drown in circumstances beyond your control? It’s easy to say “God is my refuge,” but another thing entirely to believe it in the moment. It’s a disorienting, unsettling feeling—like you’re rolling down a hill in a giant inflatable ball with no way to stop…
That’s the feeling of zorbing. Invented in New Zealand, zorbing is the act of rolling down a hill in a giant, 11-foot inflatable ball. When my family went to the only zorbing park in the U.S., my kids had the time of their lives. My husband and I? Not so much. After not one, but two rides down the 1,000-foot hill, we were nauseous, useless, and in need of ibuprofen and a bed for the rest of the evening.
Our bodies were not meant to feel that loss of control and the force of gravity, and I don’t believe our spirits are meant to either. The truth is, a certain level of uncertainty is unavoidable because, well, we aren’t God. But when we find ourselves in those moments of freefall and challenges, we have an anchor.
An anchor is a metaphor for something immovable we can tether ourselves to, something that no amount of storm or uncertainty can sever. This is what we find in Psalm 46.
God Is My Refuge and Strength
The passage is separated into three parts by the word Selah, which is a musical term for a pause or an interlude. The first section tells us:
“God is our refuge and strength, a helper who is always found in times of trouble. Therefore we will not be afraid, though the earth trembles and the mountains topple into the depths of the seas, though its water roars and foams and the mountains quake with its turmoil. Selah” (Psalm 46:1-3 CSB).
We may believe in theory that God is our refuge, but I love that the author says God is always found in times of trouble. Some translations say he is an “ever-ready” or “very present” help. The original Greek word for “present” is the same one used in Genesis 16:7 when the “angel of the Lord found Hagar,” who was alone, rejected, and entirely uncertain. God was there, and he actively found her.
When we are zorbing down a hill or floating in gravity-defying uncertainty, God is very present and ready to help. He is findable because he will find you. You might feel tempted to say, “You don’t know my mess. It’s too much,” but God can handle it. The Psalmist lived in a time when people believed the world rested on pillars above the ocean, so the thought of the earth toppling into the sea was a real fear.
The Message translation puts verses 2-3 this way: “We stand fearless at the cliff-edge of doom, courageous in seastorm and earthquake, Before the rush and roar of oceans, the tremors that shift mountains.”
I understand that feeling of being on the “cliff-edge of doom”—when it seems like our life is literally falling apart. Watching my kid get wheeled into surgery again, and wondering if my marriage will get better or if my child will find mental healing. Thankfully, the presence of God is a pretty big deal…
God Is My Anchor
The following section, verses 4-7, gives us context for our confidence:
“There is a river— its streams delight the city of God, the holy dwelling place of the Most High. God is within her; she will not be toppled. God will help her when the morning dawns. Nations rage, kingdoms topple; the earth melts when he lifts his voice. The Lord of Armies is with us; the God of Jacob is our stronghold. Selah” (CSB)
We are reminded that God is not only with us, but “he’s BEAST,” as my kids would say. Theologian R. C. Sproul put a more polished tone on “beast-mode” when he stated, “If God is the Creator of the entire universe, then it must follow that He is the Lord of the whole universe. No part of the world is outside of His lordship. That means that no part of my life must be outside of His lordship.”
Since this is true, we can trust in God’s finished work on the cross and in his ongoing work in our lives. We can literally lie down next to Jesus in the boat during the storm and trust not only the character of our good and loving Father, but also his omnipotent position. Our circumstances aren’t our anchor—God himself is.
Trust Him and Be Still
The last section of Psalm 46, verses 8-11, tells us how to get to a place of resting in God’s sovereign reign and care:
“Come, see the works of the Lord, who brings devastation on the earth. He makes wars cease throughout the earth. He shatters bows and cuts spears to pieces; he sets wagons ablaze. “Stop fighting, and know that I am God, exalted among the nations, exalted on the earth.” The Lord of Armies is with us; the God of Jacob is our stronghold. Selah” (CBS)
You may have heard verse 10 in its most famous translation, which simply says, “Be still.” Another translation says, “stop striving.” This command takes issue with our modern culture of busyness, but God reminds us that when we stop striving, we can fully grasp who he is—the God of angel armies who is with us and defending us.
We can trust God more deeply when we take time for stillness.
Blaise Pascal, a mathematician and theologian from the 15th century, said, “All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.” Our restlessness is not a modern problem, but a human one. Yet God says that when we are still and quiet, we will fully realize and acknowledge that he’s got us.
Martin Luther, who struggled with anxiety, found refuge not in the walls of the monastery, but in the words of Scripture, especially Psalm 46. It’s recorded that in his darkest moments, Luther would say to his friends, “Come, let us sing the 46th psalm and let them do their worst.”
Spending time alone with God is hard enough. Moms of littles know that going to the bathroom gives you only a small chance of being alone—they will find you. (My kids are grown, but my dog comes blazing into the bathroom these days every time I sit on the seat; it’s like he’s got a sixth sense that tells him, “Mom is completely alone—I’m gonna remedy this situation.”)
Even harder than finding time alone is being still and quiet. Stopping striving physically, as well as spiritually and emotionally. But God says that’s when we’ll fully realize, acknowledge, and be able to anchor ourselves in the fact that he’s got us.
So I challenge you with these truths today:
- You are in communion with a present and findable God. If finding him feels daunting, know that he will find you.
- You can trust his omnipotent position. He is your anchor, and you can rest in who he is.
- You can trust God more deeply when you make time for stillness.
So, let’s get alone with God today, tomorrow, whenever and wherever we’re able. Let’s spend time listening, being still, and absorbing the goodness and peace of the God who is very, very present. In our storms, our messes, our marriages, our singleness, in our families, at our “cliff-edge of doom”—come, let us sing the 46th Psalm, and let them do their worst.
1 Mountain Image by RENE RAUSCHENBERGER from Pixabay
2 Ocean Image by Gianluca from Pixabay
