The Shepherd on the Beartooth Pass

In the summer of 1987, twelve-year-old Marcus Elling wandered off the trail during a family hike along Montana's Beartooth Pass. The afternoon clouds rolled in fast, swallowing the switchbacks in gray mist. He couldn't see twenty feet ahead. He sat on a boulder and cried.

What Marcus didn't know was that a local shepherd named Dale Kirchner had spotted him from a ridge above — a man who knew every ravine, every loose scree field, every place where the drop-offs hid behind wildflowers. Dale never called out. He simply walked a parallel path along the ridge, keeping the boy in sight, steering him away from danger by tossing small stones to redirect his steps toward the trail. When Marcus stumbled near a cliff edge, Dale was already there, thirty yards above, ready to descend.

An hour later, Marcus found his family at the trailhead. He told them he'd been completely alone.

He hadn't been alone for a single minute.

The psalmist understood something Marcus would learn years later — that the Keeper of Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps. Before you lift your eyes to the hills and wonder where your help comes from, the One who made those hills has already fixed His gaze on you. He watches your going out and your coming in. Not from a distance, but close enough to redirect your next step.