Each summer of my childhood, we hiked the Empire Bluff Trail, a short but spectacular stretch of the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. Without fully appreciating our easy access to breathtaking natural beauty, I remember always feeling a twinge of nervous competition beginning our ascent.

Trailing behind my pacesetting uncle, we hustled through stretches of the sun-dappled forest, looking for shortcuts over fallen trees. Passing through wildflower fields vibrating with the screech-buzz of summer cicadas, I focused on staying at the front of our pack when the trail narrowed to single-file. We would eventually come to a weather-beaten boardwalk along the beach cliff that faded into the deep, soft sand.

Our treks converged into collective appreciation as we found ourselves on the level ground of a stunning overlook in the stillness far above the crashing waves. We could recenter ourselves and behold the ages-old dunes rising 400 feet above the varying hues of Lake Michigan.

Jesus and his apostles covered diverse terrain, from bustling port cities like Tyre and Sidon to impoverished farm villages on barren land dotting Judea. They ventured up and came down to meet people where they were—in their troubled homes and throngs of sweaty visitors from foreign lands. When they met these people, beleaguered by their journeys, they stood with them on “a stretch of level ground,” inviting them to situate themselves on the solid foundation of God’s love.

As we hike through our days, how do we make a habit of openly seeking level ground to receive the power that “comes forth” from Jesus and be steadied enough to share that level ground with those around us?