There are days when life feels like it’s coming off its hinges—when the “mountains” you thought would always be there begin to slide, and the “hills” you trusted start to crumble. Isaiah 54:10 speaks straight into that kind of day. God acknowledges that even the most solid parts of creation can shift under our feet, yet He confronts that fear with a staggering promise: His love will not walk away, and His peace-covenant will not crack. Today is an invitation to stand in the middle of the shaking and dare to believe that what He says is more permanent than what you see.

Love That Will Not Walk Away

Isaiah 54:10 says, “Though the mountains may be removed and the hills may be shaken, My loving devotion will not depart from you, and My covenant of peace will never be broken,” says the LORD, who has compassion on you.” Notice how honest God is: He does not pretend the mountains won’t move. He simply declares that when they do, His love still won’t. The strongest structures in your world may fail, but His “loving devotion” remains anchored. This isn’t sentimental affection; it’s a committed, covenant love that refuses to let go.

This is why Paul can say in Romans 8:38–39, “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor principalities, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Nothing in “all creation” includes those collapsing mountains and crumbling hills. God’s love for you in Christ is not on trial today. It is settled, sealed, and stronger than whatever is shaking around you—or inside you.

A Covenant Sealed in Blood

God doesn’t just promise “peace”; He calls it a “covenant of peace.” In Scripture, covenants are always serious, binding, and costly. For us, that covenant of peace was sealed not with the blood of animals, but with the blood of Jesus. At the cross, Christ absorbed the wrath our sins deserved and established real, objective peace between us and a holy God. The peace God promises is not a vague inner calm; it is first a legal, covenant peace grounded in the finished work of His Son.

This is why Hebrews 13:8 can declare, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” The One who shed His blood to make peace does not change His mind. He doesn’t renegotiate the terms when you have a hard week, a lingering temptation, or a painful failure. If you belong to Christ, your peace with God is as secure as Christ Himself. The mountains of your performance, your emotions, or your circumstances might move—but the covenant sealed in His blood does not.

Living Like the Mountains Can’t Win

If God’s loving devotion will not depart, and His covenant of peace will never be broken, then we are free to live differently in a shaking world. We don’t have to cling to lesser “mountains” for stability: careers, politics, people’s approval, or even our own understanding. We can hold them loosely, knowing they may move—but also knowing that when they do, we are not undone. Jesus said in John 16:33, “I have told you these things so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take courage; I have overcome the world!” Our courage doesn’t come from a calm world, but from a conquering Savior.

So today, when something trembles—a relationship, a bank account, a diagnosis, a plan—treat it as a fresh reminder, not of God’s absence, but of His nearness. Talk to Him about what’s shaking instead of trying to hide it. Ask, “Lord, what would it look like to trust Your unshakable love in this exact place?” Then take one concrete step of obedience: forgive, confess, serve, speak truth, or simply wait in faith. Live as if His covenant is more real than your fear—because it is.

Lord, thank You that Your loving devotion will not depart and Your covenant of peace will never be broken. Help me respond today with trust and obedience, living like Your unshakable love is more permanent than anything that moves around me.

This may sound like heresy in some quarters, but I have come to this conclusion-that there are far too many among us who have thought that they accepted Christ, but nothing has come of it within their own lives and desires and habits! This kind of philosophy in soul-winning-the idea that it is "the easiest thing in the world to accept Jesus"-permits the man or woman to accept Christ by an impulse of the mind or of the emotions. It allows us to gulp twice and sense an emotional feeling that has come over us, and then say, "I have accepted Christ." These are spiritual matters about which we must be legitimately honest and in which we must seek the discernment of the Holy Spirit. These are things about which we cannot afford to be wrong; to be wrong is still to be lost and far from God. Let us never forget that the Word of God stresses the importance of conviction and concern and repentance when it comes to conversion, spiritual regeneration, being born from above by the Spirit of God!

I can do all things in Him that strengtheneth me. - Philippians 4:13

"I can do all things." That rendering of Paul’s words does not exactly represent what he really meant. In one aspect they say more than Paul says, and in another less. For he is not only speaking about what he can do, but also of what he can endure. Action is but half - and often the lesser half - of life; so we have to widen the expression to include both doing and bearing. But, on the other hand, "all things" must be subject to some limitations. Common sense dictates these. The Apostle is making no preposterous claim to a kind of quasi-omnipotence. He felt himself ready for anything that might come. "I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. ... I have learned in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content." But "content" is not Paul’s meaning. The plain rendering is "self-sufficient." Take away from that word all the arrogance that is in it, and understand it to mean independent of circumstances or lord of externals. What Paul says is that he is ready for everything, equipped for any fortune, able to do whatever is commanded, able to bear whatever is imposed.

We have here just the true attitude for a Christian soul: to be so far self-sufficing as that externals do not gain the mastery. We should be able always to keep the bilge-water down by working the pumps, and to have our hands on the tiller and follow the course which the Alaster-Navigator has chartered out for us, whatever winds blow or waves roll. So shall we have strength for all things, and be equal to any variety of fortune. In some great cathedral the temperature will vary little between midsummer and midwinter. The walls are thick; and it matters not whether the sunshine be blazing on the piazza outside or whether icicles be hanging from the cornices of the building, there is the same atmosphere within. We should carry our atmospheres with us. Our spiritual heat, like the temperature of our bodies, should keep pretty nearly the same at the poles and at the equator.

" I have strength for everything." Now, that may be said in a great many different keys and moods, and may be the expression of almost opposite feelings. It may be the proud boast of an unnatural and over-strained stoicism which tries to crush down the sensibilities of human nature, and thereby destroys the nature that it is trying to steady. Or the boast may come from an underestimate of the difficulties and vicissitudes that fall to be encountered in every life, and an over-estimate of our poor powers to face them. Many a young man flings himself into the battle of life with an unbounded confidence that he is equipped for all its events, and by the time that grey hairs begin to show upon the black head, instead of saying, "I can do all things," he is ready to wail, "I can do nothing; I am an utter failure." But " I can do all things" may be said, and ought to be said, by us, as the result of our simply leaning on an Almighty strength. Then levity, ignorance of one’s own weakness, ignorance of the serried ranks of enemies that beset every attempt at noble life, disappear, and what on other lips sounds like the most arrogant and insane presumption, which is sure to be punished, comes to be an utterance fitted for the lips of the humblest and the most self-distrustful. " I have strength for anything," and yet not I, "but Christ in me."