Woe to those who go down to Egypt for help and who depend on horses! They trust in the abundance of chariots and in the large number of horsemen. They do not look to the Holy One of Israel, and they do not seek the LORD . Isaiah 31:1
“There’s nothing like good solid ground, terra firma,” the astronaut announced at the press conference following his problem-wracked, weeklong voyage. Kneel- ing down after disembarking from the space shuttle, this proud military man had actually kissed the ground. “It’s nice to be able to count on something!” he had said.
Well, of course, everyone knows that you can count on solid ground, or can you?
In January 1994, our family flew to Southern California to spend the week with some of our closest friends. On Sunday night, Lenny and I got in the car and drove to Palm Springs for a Monday of golf. Our families stayed back in Pasadena.
At 3:30 the next morning, I woke to something I had never heard before. It was a cracking sound, reminiscent of lifting a sticking window sash. And then, incredibly, our hotel room began to roll. Lenny sat up. “Earthquake,” he choked out. “It’s an earth- quake.” I flipped on the light. “It’s a big one,” Lenny said after about twenty seconds of what felt like ocean waves. Fifteen seconds later it was over.
We dialed our families back in Pasadena. They were hysterical. What we had ex- perienced in the desert was nothing compared to what had happened a hundred miles to the west. When we saw the news the next morning, we saw freeways—the ones we had traveled only hours before—twisted and broken. When we got home later that day, we heard the detailed story from our families: dishes falling from their shelves and chandeliers swinging wildly.
Over the next few days, I experienced the aftermath of an earthquake from the inside. By late in the week, it dawned on me why earthquakes are so awful. No, it’s not the lack of warning—although that’s the reality of these tremors. It’s not the de- struction—although the power of the moving earth is spectacular.
The greatest ruin an earthquake delivers is in the hearts of people who can no longer count on the dependability of solid ground. Terra firma has lost its firma.
Today’s text is a blazing reminder from the prophet Isaiah to his people: “Woe to those who . . . depend on horses . . . [or] the abundance of chariots . . . [or] the large number of horsemen” (v. 1), he declared. “Egyptians are men, not God” (v. 3).
The Israelites were filled with insecurity. “We’re tired of trusting a God we cannot see,” they must have said. “We’re tired of relying on invisible safekeeping. Give us those strong and dependable Egyptians. They’ll protect us. They’re like solid ground. We can count on them. They’ll save us.”
“When the Lord raises his hand to strike,” Isaiah replied, “both [the helper and the one who is helped] will perish together” (v. 3). If you trust in anything or anyone other than Him, you’ll be sorry, the prophet warned his people. Even the Egyptians will fail you.
What can you count on—your job, your car, your digital device? How about your stock portfolio? Your relationships? Your health?
Isaiah reminds us that none of these things are worthy of our absolute trust. Incredible as it may sound, they all will let us down. But trusting in God will never bring disappointment. He is enough. His reliability is legendary. His faithfulness is completely sure—terra that’s absolutely firma.
Kneel down and kiss this truth.