The turbulence in our world hasn’t slowed down. If anything, it’s intensified.

War, terrorism, political unrest, economic pressure, social division—every day brings a fresh reminder that the ground beneath us can shift without warning.

This uncertainty isn’t just global; it reaches into our homes, our communities, and our hearts. Loved ones pass away. Jobs are lost. Children grow up and leave home. Marriages end. Even something as simple as another birthday can remind us that time is moving faster than we’d like. In moments like these, we’re all searching for something—anything—that will hold steady.

The good news? There is something stable. Or rather, Someone.

Psalm 63 reminds us that “God’s throne is firmly established. It cannot be moved.” That verse is more than poetry; it’s a promise. God’s presence endures when everything else feels uncertain. He isn’t shaken by the headlines or the chaos. He remains constant, faithful, and strong.

But here’s the part we must not miss in these anxious times: the stability we find in God is meant to be shared. We are called not just to find comfort for ourselves, but to offer care and comfort to others.

Caring for each other may be the most powerful form of stability we can offer. A steady presence. A listening ear. These simple acts can anchor someone who feels lost in the storm. When we choose to care, we help steady the world—one heart at a time.

The church is meant to be the place where this happens regularly. It may not always feel perfect—styles of worship change, pastors come and go—but the message remains: God is here, and we are not alone. I remember a fireman who came to one of our services. We sang “Amazing Grace,” and this tough, calloused man began to cry. “I haven’t been in church in 20 years,” he told me. “But I’ve heard that song at funerals, and it does something to me.” Even then, the unchanging message of grace was doing its quiet, healing work.

Church services are often one of the few things families still do together. While so much changes—our jobs, our routines, even the people around us—there is still the presence of God and the call to care. These shared moments of worship and connection become part of a legacy, passed down from parents and grandparents. And like planting a tree, if the legacy hasn’t been started yet, today is the best day to begin.

In a world that often feels like it’s spinning out of control, we don’t have to be helpless. We can be people of hope. We can be people who care. And we can be people who point to the One who never changes.

Let’s care for one another—genuinely, intentionally, and often. Because when everything feels unstable, care is one of the strongest anchors we’ve got.

(More will soon be coming to this post.)