Today two towering trees fall, Assyria remembered and Egypt sentenced, and Hebrews tells you what remains when everything shakeable has been shaken: a kingdom that cannot be moved.

Since we are receiving that kingdom, the writer says, let us be thankful, and so worship God acceptably with reverence and awe. Gratitude is the native language of the unshaken.

Ezekiel's graveyard tour is history's most repetitive exhibit: Assyria terrified everyone, then fell; Elam terrified everyone, then fell; Egypt is next. Every unshakable-looking power was shakeable on schedule, and the pit received them all with the same silence.

Hebrews stands you somewhere different: Mount Zion, angels in joyful assembly, blood that speaks a better word, a kingdom that survives every quake by nature. The practical output is thankfulness, worship offered with awe by people whose foundation does not move. Anchor there today, and watch your anxieties get reclassified as weather.