Psalm 46 hands you today's anchor: God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way.

Around it, a king rides into Jerusalem on a colt, a fig tree withers, and a census counts a nation of former slaves now organized into an army. Change is everywhere in today's reading. The refuge is not.

Israel's camp had the tabernacle at dead center, every tent facing the Presence; the psalm has a river-gladdened city that cannot fall because God is within her. Geography preaching theology: life arranged around the Presence holds, whatever the surrounding uproar. The fig tree preaches the negative: leaves without fruit, religion without a living center, withers.

So run the camp inspection on your own life. What actually sits at the center, the thing everything else is arranged around? The One who rode in on a colt wants the middle of the camp, a house of prayer at your core. Give Him the center, then be still. The mountains can do what they like.