“I lay down and slept; I woke again, for the Lord sustained me.” (Psalm 3:5)
St. Louis, God sustains. In a season when rhetoric stalls progress, bullets fly and dreams die too young—where mothers mourn and fathers carry pain in silence, God is still sustaining His people.
We know something about danger. North side, south side, downtown, county line. Systems that fail us. Schools that close on our children. Grocery stores have gone missing in our neighborhoods. There are also medical deserts, mental strain and financial drought. And yet, we are still here.
We made it through what should have taken us out. Not because we had the right insurance, the right lawyer or the right politician. Because God blocked it. Because God sustained us while we slept.
This world trusts in weapons: missiles, drones, and nuclear codes. We trust in a Shield. They build iron domes; we stand under divine protection. They invest in defense budgets; we invest in prayer. Because our safety doesn’t come from Washington, Jefferson City, or City Hall: it comes from the hill called Calvary.
God is our Shield when we are surrounded—by ten thousand enemies, by bills, stress, sickness, injustice, grief. Still, we rest. Because faith can rest where fear cannot. You can’t sleep if you’re plotting. You can’t rest if you’re worrying. But when you know God sustains, you close your eyes in peace.
Yes, there are forces against us: political and spiritual—redlining and racism, political violence and poverty. But the weapons will not prosper. The shield still works.
St. Louis, it is time to put on the whole armor of God. Stand firm. Take the shield of faith. Not carnal weapons. Not vengeance. Faith. Love. Unity. Discipline. Righteousness.
Our ancestors fought under this Shield. Harriet, unafraid. Dr. King, unshaken. Grandma praying at the kitchen sink, unbroken. They knew: if God be for us, who can be against us?
But now we must ask ourselves, when God gives us power, will we use it for the people, or against the people? When tables turn, will we lift others up or act like the ones who held us down? Real liberation doesn’t mimic oppression. Real freedom builds community.
So, lift up your head, St. Louis. The King of Glory wants to come in. God is flipping the script. He is healing our wounds—and strengthening our shield.
Go ahead and sleep tonight. Rest in peace, we shall not die. Because the same God who kept you last night will wake you up in the morning. And when you rise, rise strong. Rise refreshed. Rise bold. Rise blessed.
Danger seen and unseen; God blocked it. Systems failed; God sustained. Enemies plotted; God delivered.
God is our sustainer.
The Reverend Dr. Anthony L. Riley serves as the 14th Pastor of the historic Central Baptist Church of St. Louis—the 3rd oldest Black church west of the Mississippi River.