“I will lift up my eyes to the hills;
from where is my help to come?”
Psalm 121
Among my childhood memories is seeing The Sound of Music on the big screen in Southern California. I sat in the theatre, surrounded by darkness as the movie opened with the splendor of Austria’s lush, emerald-green hills. Joyfully singing amidst this natural grandeur was Julie Andrews, who played Maria, a postulant at the Nonnberg Abbey. Simply clad, Maria’s ecstatic singing catapults the audience into the movie’s theme:
The hills are alive with the music,
With songs they have sung for a thousand years
The hills fill my heart with the sound of music
My heart wants to sing every song it hears
With songs they have sung for a thousand years
The hills fill my heart with the sound of music
My heart wants to sing every song it hears
This emotional beginning leads into the film’s setting, just before the Anschluss, the annexation of Austria into Nazi Germany on March 12, 1938. When The Sound of Music was released in 1965, this event felt like distant, unthinkable history. Yet its legacy persists, drawing from the same authoritarian playbook. Eighty-eight years later, we find ourselves witnessing an open contempt for the rule of law, a system of checks and balances under attack, and the assault on the sovereignty of nations and all creation itself.
In light of these troubling patterns, we might ask: What are we to do? We, whose hearts are breaking? Historian Diana Butler Bass observes: “Perhaps we need the remaining wilderness to embrace the wild within.”[1] What if the God who made the hills, mountains, rocky terrain, and every creature calls us to these wild places—not as escape, but so we can pause and reset our compass? Imagine if this world is as close as lifting our eyes to the heavens?
Prayer: Divine Maker, assure us that lifting our eyes to your love is as near as sunlight through our window or the darkness itself. Nothing can separate us from your constancy. As Creator of love, you stand with us always. We offer this prayer in all your many names. Amen.
[1] Diana Butler Bass, “The Hope of the World: A Lenten Moment from the Cottage,” February 25, 2026.
Yes, God is always present with us….and looking out at my flowers and veggies in my garden are a reminder of that Presence! Thank you, Jessica
Thank you, Mary Ann! Your beautiful garden is a marvelous reminder of the Divine’s presence
Thank you so very much.
You are most welcome, Maren.
“What if the God who made the hills, mountains, rocky terrain, and every creature calls us to these wild places—not as escape, but so we can pause and reset our compass?”
Yes!
Amen and thank you!