Avalanche

“When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul.” — Psalm 94:19 (ESV)

The Psalms don’t shy away from the mess. They meet us in the middle of our panic, our grief, our spiraling thoughts—and they speak with honesty and hope. Today’s verse doesn’t pretend life is easy. It names the truth: sometimes the cares of our heart are many. Not one or two. Many. Layered. Heavy. Relentless.

In 1982, a massive avalanche struck Alpine Meadows ski resort in California, burying buildings and lives under tons of snow. Seven people died. But one woman—Anna Conrad—was found alive five days later. Trapped in a small air pocket, injured and alone, she endured the cold and the silence, not knowing if help would ever come. Then, a search dog named Bridget sniffed through the wreckage and led rescuers to her. Against all odds, Anna was pulled from the snow (as reported by FOX Weather, March 2024).

Her story is more than survival—it’s a parable of hope. Because sometimes we feel spiritually buried too. We lie beneath layers of grief, fear, and exhaustion, wondering if anyone sees us. But today’s verse reminds us: God does. 

God’s consolations are not just warm thoughts or fleeting comforts. They are the ways God shows up when we feel buried. Consolation is rescue—like the search dog that found Anna. It’s presence—like the Spirit whispering peace into our panic. It’s the quiet strength to keep breathing, the unexpected kindness of a friend, the scripture that speaks directly to your ache. God’s consolations are the tangible ways grace reaches us in the cold.

He doesn’t always stop the avalanche, but God is always with us in it—holding us, holding the weight, holding the moment. And in the midst of our many cares, He offers many consolations—grace layered upon grace, peace deeper than panic, love stronger than fear.

God of comfort, when the avalanche of worry threatens to bury me, remind me that you are near. Let your consolations rise like warmth in the cold, like light in the fog. Cheer my soul with your presence, your promises, and your peace. I trust that you see the weight I carry—and you do not leave me to bear it alone. Thank you for being my refuge when my heart is overwhelmed. Amen.

Peace & Grace,

Pastor Tim