The Lord is my rock and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength in who I trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation and my high tower.” – Ps. 18:2, NASB
I live on the flatlands of the Midwest. The idea of a “rock” is a little hard to picture from my window because the land stretches uninterrupted all the way to either horizon. We don’t even have rocks in our dirt–which makes for easier farming–so my imagination must flit to something beyond my immediate reality.
For some reason I kept thinking of “the Rock,” as in Alcatraz. Probably weird, I know, but I looked it up anyway. Used as a military stronghold, a military prison and then later as a maximum-security prison, the 22 acre island has an inglorious history. But it was used for those things for a reason. Located 1-1/2 miles off San Francisco Bay and surrounded by strong, cold currents of the bay, “the Rock” was uncommonly secure.
What if I remove all of the negative shadows thrown over Alcatraz? What if it was a place of security for the person on that island? The Rock becomes a shelter then, doesn’t it? A fortress, perhaps. A place of deliverance, of salvation and a high tower. A place where I am safe.
That is my God. The Rock in whom I trust. I am safe with Him.