Day 213

Isaiah 15–16 | Matthew 24:32–51 | Psalm 90

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There’s a kind of security that feels solid—until it’s tested.

That was my fence this morning.

A few years ago, I reinforced it. Replaced a few slats. Nailed everything tight. And until today, it looked strong. Stable. Sturdy.

But that was before our neighbors’ four dogs—yes, I said four dogs—on the other side of it decided they’d had enough of boundaries.

Two of them came through a slat that gave way. Two more circled to the side gate and tried to squeeze in that way. Sadie, our 7-month-old lab, stared at me from the patio with wide eyes that said, “I didn’t sign up for this.”

It was chaos. Barking. Yelling. Neighbors gathering in my yard. All because one single fence slat gave out.

Just one.

And the moment it did, everything changed.

When Strength Is Just a Veneer

That’s the image that came to mind when I read Isaiah 15–16 today.

The prophet weeps over Moab—a once-powerful nation whose cities fall, whose people flee, and whose confidence turns to cries. The devastation is so vivid you can almost hear it.

But Isaiah doesn’t just mourn what happened. He names why it happened.

“We have heard of the pride of Moab—how proud he is!—of his arrogance, his pride, and his insolence” (Isaiah 16:6).

Moab built its identity on strength—on its own wisdom, might, and reputation. It believed its walls could hold. Its wealth could sustain. Its legacy could protect.

But pride is a veneer.

And when it gets tested—one plank at a time—it gives way.

Not always all at once. Sometimes slowly. Then suddenly.

And what felt like a fortress turns out to be fragile.

The Danger of Feeling Safe

Jesus echoes a similar warning in Matthew 24.

He tells His disciples: Stay awake. Be ready. Because the day of the Lord won’t come with a countdown clock—it’ll come like a flood. Like a thief. Like the moment ‘normal’ gets interrupted and suddenly you realize the thing you trusted to hold you… couldn’t.

We—I—don’t like living that way.

I like plans and predictability. Fences that hold. Comforts I can control.

But spiritual pride—just like national pride—whispers the same lie: You’re fine. You’ve got time. You’ve got backup plans. You’ve got strength of your own.

Until you don’t.

Teach Us to Number Our Days

That’s why Psalm 90 is such a needed contrast.

It pulls us out of self-made illusions and sets our feet in eternal reality.

“Teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12)

Not so we live in fear. But so we live in reverence.

Not panicking when the slats give way—but anchoring to the only One who never does.

When Your Fence Gets Breached

Maybe today—like me—you’re feeling the mayhem of a breached fence.

Something that once felt solid has crumbled. Your strength gave way. The noise feels endless. And you’re standing on the patio of your life saying, I didn’t sign up for this.

And if—like Sadie—you’re wide-eyed on the patio, unsure what just got through, let Moab be your warning.

Let Jesus be your reminder.

Let Moses’ psalm be your prayer.

Because we weren’t meant to build our security on fences. We were meant to build it on the fear of the Lord.

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Lord, show me where I’ve placed my confidence in the wrong things. Reveal the slats I’ve nailed too tightly to self-reliance, and teach me to number my days with a humble, watchful, worshiping heart. When everything noisy and chaotic tries to get in, help me remember the fence I’ve built can’t save me—only You can. And I’m only secure when I’m rooted in You. Amen.