On April 1, I watched the Orion spacecraft lift off from the launch pad and head into deep space. From that moment on, I was captivated by NASA’s real-time Artemis II mission—hurling four astronauts inside a capsule the size of a minivan toward the far side of the Moon and back. For the next nine days, I stayed glued to NASA’s live updates on my iPhone.
During this time, I read Psalm 25, which begins, “To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul.” The Hebrew word for lift is nasa (נָשָׂא), meaning to lift, bear, or carry. The Blue Letter Bible also notes meanings such as carry away, receive, regard, and respect.
We lift many things—our eyes, our hands, our hopes—but here I want to consider what it means to lift our souls. As the Integrity spacecraft journeyed toward the Moon, Psalm 25 drew me into reflection on trust, surrender, and the courage to be carried by a power greater than myself.
The first ten verses of Psalm 25 remind me that lifting my soul is not an act of striving but of trust, placing the full weight of who I am into God’s faithful hands. For me, these verses are where Scripture and space exploration meet, as both require trust and courage when encountering something so far beyond our ability to manage on our own.
Psalm 25(ESV)
To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul.
2 O my God, in you I trust;
let me not be put to shame;
let not my enemies exult over me.
3 Indeed, none who wait for you shall be put to shame;
they shall be ashamed who are wantonly treacherous.
4 Make me to know your ways, O Lord;
teach me your paths.
5 Lead me in your truth and teach me,
for you are the God of my salvation;
for you I wait all the day long.
6 Remember your mercy, O Lord, and your steadfast love,
for they have been from of old.
7 Remember not the sins of my youth or my transgressions;
according to your steadfast love remember me,
for the sake of your goodness, O Lord!
8 Good and upright is the Lord;
therefore he instructs sinners in the way.
9 He leads the humble in what is right,
and teaches the humble his way.
10 All the paths of the Lord are steadfast love and faithfulness,
for those who keep his covenant and his testimonies.
David begins his Psalm with a deliberate act of lifting his soul to the Lord. He says, “To you, O Lord, I lift my soul.” David is facing one direction: toward the Lord. Everything David says after his first sentence marks the course of his movement toward God.
This lifting of his soul had me imagining the four astronauts in their spacecraft: G-forces pressing them into their chairs as the rocket lifted them into space. They were seated reclined, with their feet toward the front of the capsule and their backs facing the ground, allowing them to look up toward the sky as they ascended.
Both David and the astronauts deliberately positioned themselves to move toward their destinations, trusting that doing so would lead them to something truly awe‑inspiring. They all knew they needed help outside themselves to keep them on the right and safe path.
In the first five verses of Psalm 25, David is clearly weighed down by his enemies’ opposition. This creates the tension of the “lift”—the posture of looking up while waiting to be raised from his troubles. He prays that he will not be put to shame and openly admits that he does not know the right way forward on his own. Therefore, he turns to God and asks Him to “show,” “teach,” and “guide” him.
The four astronauts knew that constant communication with Mission Control in Houston—and absolute trust in its guidance—meant the difference between life and death. Mission Control served as the nerve center of the 2026 Artemis II mission, delivering real-time system monitoring, trajectory guidance, and critical communications.
During the initial ascent, about eight minutes after liftoff, as the crew of Integrity was experiencing intense G‑forces, the rocket’s core stage engines shut down and separated from the upper stage. With main engine cutoff, acceleration dropped sharply, and the Orion spacecraft entered a free fall, causing the crew to experience immediate weightlessness.
I relate the tension of liftoff and the transition into weightlessness to what David may have felt after he intentionally placed the weight of his worries into the Lord’s hands. When David said, “To you, O Lord, I lift my soul,” he was essentially praying, “Carry me into a space of trust in you—one where the pressures of this life no longer weigh on my chest.”
In this portion of Psalm 25, I feel a moment of weightlessness as I, too, give the weight of my worries to the Lord.
- Lord, I trust you completely, even while I am under threat.
- Lord, I need you to teach and guide me because I cannot find the right path alone.
- Lord, I rely on your mercy, not my own merit.
- Lord, I acknowledge my past sins and ask to be known by your love instead.
- Lord, I feel secure knowing you are good and upright and your paths are steadfast love and faithfulness.
When we lift our souls to the Lord, we are choosing trust over control—placing the full weight of our lives into hands far steadier than our own. Like the astronauts released from the strain of liftoff into weightlessness, Psalm 25 reminds us that surrender creates space to be carried. In facing one direction—toward God—we find freedom, guidance, and rest.
