Beyond My Reach, Never Beyond His
Psalm 139:7–10 — “Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me.”
Most of my ninth-grade year has faded into scattered memories. But I remember the office phone. On September 11, 2001, I was sitting in a classroom in a small Christian school in northeastern Pennsylvania, watching the towers fall on television. My dad was an officer with the NYPD Harbor Unit. He regularly traveled between our home in the Poconos and New York City, and that morning he was at work.
I knew where my dad was supposed to be. I didn’t know where he actually was. I went to the school office and tried calling him. No answer. I tried again. Still nothing. I was watching smoke fill the sky over the city where he worked while standing a hundred and fifty miles away, unable to reach him, unable to help him, and unable to determine what would happen next. For a ninth grader who wanted nothing more than to hear his dad’s voice, the silence was terrifying.
September 11 exposed how fragile our sense of control really is. A normal Tuesday morning became a national tragedy. Office buildings became ruins. Phone lines became useless. Families who had expected someone home for dinner were suddenly waiting for news that would change their lives forever. That morning, I couldn’t reach my father. But Psalm 139 tells me there was never a moment when my father was beyond the reach of his heavenly Father.
David asks, “Where shall I go from your Spirit?” His answer is nowhere. The highest heaven isn’t above God’s reach and the grave isn’t beneath it. Even “the uttermost parts of the sea” are held within His presence. I couldn’t have understood those words then as I do now, but they seem especially precious when I remember my dad serving in the Harbor Unit that day. Wherever the job carried him — along the shoreline, across the water, or toward the wreckage — the hand of God was already there.
We eventually reached my dad and got the news he was okay, and I eventually heard his voice again. That was an undeserved mercy for which I remain deeply grateful. But many families never received the call I received. Many children waited for fathers and mothers who didn’t come home. Psalm 139 doesn’t promise that catastrophe will never reach us, but that catastrophe can never take us beyond God’s presence. His right hand holds His people in crowded streets and quiet classrooms, in rescue boats and hospital rooms, in life and even through death.
We know this because Jesus entered the place we fear most. He didn’t save us by remaining safely above our suffering. He stepped into our vulnerable world, carried our grief, and submitted Himself to death. Then He rose from the grave, proving that death itself is not outside His authority. For those who are in Christ, even the worst thing this world can do cannot remove us from His hands. Terror may shake us. Loss may wound us. Death may separate us for a time from those we love. But nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord!
Perhaps today carries its own unanswered call for you. Someone you love is beyond your ability to reach, protect, heal, or bring home. You’ve done what you can, but the distance remains. Your inability to reach them doesn’t mean God is absent. Before you make the call, He is there. When no one answers, He is there. When the news is merciful, He is there. When the news breaks your heart, He is still there. The hands pierced for you are strong enough to hold you when your own hands can do nothing.
Head: No distance, disaster, or even death can place those who belong to Christ beyond His presence and care.
Heart: Whom am I trying to hold with a control that only God possesses?
Hands: Name before God one person whose safety or future you cannot control. Entrust that person specifically to His care.
Prayer: “Heavenly Father, today I remember those who lost their lives on September 11, those who ran toward danger, and the families who still carry that empty place. When someone I love is beyond my reach, quiet my fear with the truth that no person and no place are beyond Yours. Hold the grieving, strengthen those who still serve, and anchor us in Jesus, whose resurrection assures us that even death cannot separate Your children from Your love. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
-PK