
"I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust."
Psalm 91:2 is a profound declaration of faith. In a world that often feels unstable, the psalmist identifies God not just as a distant creator, but as a personal shelter. To call God a 'refuge' is to acknowledge our need for safety, and to call Him a 'fortress' is to declare that He is our impenetrable protection against life's storms. For us today, this verse invites us to move from fear to confidence. When we face financial struggles, health crises, or family burdens, we are tempted to look for security in worldly things. Yet, this verse reminds us that true peace is found only in God. By choosing to say 'I will say of the Lord,' we make a conscious decision to anchor our trust in His unwavering character regardless of our outward circumstances.
Mang Lito was a fisherman in a quiet coastal village in Batanes. Every time the signal for a typhoon was raised, the other villagers would panic, rushing to reinforce their wooden huts with extra rope and bamboo. But Mang Lito was different; he had a deep, stone-walled cellar beneath his home that had stood for generations.
One year, a fierce typhoon hammered the island. The winds howled like wild beasts, tearing off roofs and tossing debris through the air. While his neighbors scrambled to find shelter in crowded evacuation centers, Mang Lito quietly ushered his family into the cellar. The heavy iron door was bolted tight, and inside, the sound of the wind faded into a dull, distant hum.
Inside, his grandson cried, feeling the house above them shake under the fury of the storm. Mang Lito sat calmly, eating a piece of leftover bibingka by the light of a small lamp. He told the boy, 'The wind thinks it is the master of the island, and the waves think they are the masters of the sea. But we are under the shadow of the Rock that was here long before this storm and will remain long after it is gone. Our safety is not in the wood of our walls, but in the strength of the foundation we chose.' When the sun rose the next day, the village was changed, but the family remained safe, anchored by the wisdom of the place they chose to trust.