June 2026

Does God dwell only in churches and temples? On mountaintops? What about valleys? In this issue we reflect upon where we might find God. Author Florence Bulle and the Psalmist offer thoughts to ponder.

Everybody's got to walk this lonesome valley

We've got to walk it by ourselves

There's nobody here can walk it for us

We've got to walk it by ourselves

This old 1965 Ernest Tubb tune rips the heart that is mired in desolation, gloom, or despair. He calls the feeling a lonesome valley; a sense of abandonment and hopelessness. We've got to walk it ourselves.

The book, Lord of the Valleys, published in 1972, soon after Tubb's song, seemed to 'jump out' at me from a shelf in a used bookstore. Reading author Florence Bulle's experience of the valley clearly defied Ernest Tubb's portrayal of a lonesome valley.

Bulle writes of her walk through the valley of shadows as she dealt with life-threating bronchiectasis with violent hemorrhages, a debilitating lung disease. It was in the valley that she discovered "the One who holds all things His hands, and learned that submission to Him is the only real security of His control."

This book is not a collection of poor- me- isms. Rather, Bulle finds peace and joy in the valley. She writes: "When Jesus spoke of Abundant Life, it doesn't begin on the other side of physical death. But we will never know this dimension of life until we tear down the No Trespassing signs in those areas we have never allowed the Lord to enter."

My favorite chapter is: "5. Learning Love—in the Valley," which is one that bears frequent reading and contemplation. Other chapters read like this: Understanding the Goodness of God; Alone with God in the Valley; Panic Praying; The Ministry of Suffering—in the Valley; Rejoicing in Hope—Triumphant in the Valley; and so on.

Lord of the Valleys is dated: some language, some scriptural references, and some religious practices. Hopefully, this does not come across as a book review.

My reflections do intend to answer a plea, Where is God? When the pent-up feelings arise and we think If there was only one person who understands.... There is. In the valley, on the mountaintop, and in our heart.

--by Jan

“Nothing lives long, only the earth and the mountains.”

– Dee Brown

I sit on a rock beside the Payette River (in photo), near Banks, Idaho. On my phone, I read from Psalm 90: “Before the mountains were born, or the earth or the world brought forth, you are God, from age to age.”

I am 75 years old. The rock on which I sit is centuries older. The steep hills across the river have seen generations of humans come and go.

“I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills.” I have done so since my youth. From the front yard of the house where I lived as a teenager, you could see seven peaks in the Cascade Mountains that were snow-capped year-round. I learned early that God’s creation is much grander than I.

Lord, you have been our dwelling place

in all generations.

 Before the mountains were brought forth

or ever you had formed the earth and the world,

from everlasting to everlasting you are God.

- Psalm 90:1-2

It is a good thing to be reminded of that. I easily obsess over minor problems, lie awake worrying about things that will not matter a month from now, much less a century from now. Our dwelling place is not in the latest social media post nor in the latest headlines on TV. Our dwelling place, our true home, is in the Lord, maker of heaven and earth.

I sit beside the Payette River. I listen to the breeze rustling through the pine branches. I listen to the river, splashing and gurgling past the rocks. I listen for the voice of God.

--by Bill

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