Household duties are mundane, but on this particular morning, I had the cleaning supplies in tow ready to tackle the job I least enjoyed. Everyone was where they needed to be: my husband and younger daughter were in the north part of the island, and our adult daughter with disabilities was at her day program. All felt safe and okay.

My phone in a different part of the house blasted out the warning signals. My first response was to prepare for another large earthquake, but nothing was shaking. I wondered if I had missed an air raid drill announcement. Nope, the message on the alert in English was about missiles flying over the island.

Wait, what?

Missiles?

I called my husband while flipping to news stations, and the emergency checklists began scrolling through my mind like codes on a computer screen. Too fast to comprehend. All the while, I’m not sure if we repacked the go-bags, so mentally, I'm also trying to think what should be in there. And screaming, “Why isn’t he picking up his phone?!?”

When he did pick it up, he sounded unbothered by anything. He related that his phone, along with several others, went off at the location where he was preparing for a meeting. He informed me that everyone looked at their phones and then put them back down. In the end, it was all a mistranslation. It was not missiles that flying overhead, but rather satellites.

Psalm 91 is one psalm that many facing storms in their life flip to in their Bibles to cling to the truths written there. Refuges and fortresses are places of security. And as several commentators pointed out, God is where His shadow is. He is not like the storybook character, Peter Pan, who loses his shadow and is out looking for it. And if God is where His shadow is and we are under it, then we are secure.

So, why, then, when we face danger, do we sometimes, or honestly often, panic?

Look at the third word in verse one: “dwells.” Dwells means “to dwell, remain, sit, and abide.” It has this connotation that one does not walk away but instead stays put. Charles Spurgeon puts it this way that some “run to [the mercyseat] at times, and enjoy occasional approaches, but they do not habitually reside in the mysterious presence.” This is abiding in Christ and He in them (John 15:4-9). It is to be like Paul and not just say, “To live is Christ” (Philippians 1:21), but to live it out day by day, moment by moment. Those are the ones that “dwell,” who abide in the Almighty's shadow.

I recently attended a memorial service for a cross-cultural doctor who left a legacy. He saved many lives in the city I’m currently living in and in historically war-torn parts of the world. But his legacy is not what he did. His legacy is how he lived each day. In a video created by one of his grandsons a few months before his death, Dr. Long said, “If you are where God wants you to be, then you are in the safest place in the world.” From Psalm 91, we know that this place is “dwelling in the shadow of the Almighty,” not in a specific country or region. It’s abiding in Him.

I’m thankful that my alert message was a mistranslation, but I’m not naive about the fact that some of you reading this are under real threats. May each of you find strength in God, your refuge and fortress. May you find peace as you “dwell” in His shadow.

Resource: Blue Letter Bible Commentaries