God Is Greater Than the Highs and Lows.
If you’ve ever seen the little symbol—G > ∧ ∨—on a bracelet or tattoo, that’s what it means. God is greater than the highs and lows. I remember the first time I noticed it on someone’s wrist during a coffee shop meetup. I thought it was a math problem at first. I almost asked if they were a calculus major.
Nope. Just hope in shorthand.
And honestly? I needed that reminder more than I realized.
Because my life, like most normal human lives, has been one long rollercoaster of “Wow this is amazing!” immediately followed by “Wait… what just happened?”
You ever feel emotionally whiplashed like that?
Same.
The Highs: When Everything Feels Golden
Let me start with the highs because, wow, they can be intoxicating.
There was a year where everything just worked.
New job. Better pay. Great community. My prayer life felt strong. I was journaling like I was about to publish a devotional.
I thought, “This is it. I’ve cracked the code. I am spiritually thriving.”
Spoiler alert: I had not cracked the code.
Because here’s the sneaky thing about highs—they can make you forget you’re human. You start thinking your joy is self-generated. Like you manufactured it.
But the phrase God Is Greater Than the Highs and Lows reminds me that even the best seasons aren’t ultimate.
They’re gifts.
Not gods.
That distinction matters.
The Lows: The Uninvited Guests
Now let’s talk about the lows.
Because they don’t send calendar invites.
Back in 8th grade, I wore two different shoes to school. Not on purpose. It was a Monday. That was a low.
But adult lows hit different.
Like when a relationship you invested years into quietly unravels.
Or when you’re staring at a rejection email that starts with, “We regret to inform you…”
Or when anxiety creeps in at 2:17 a.m. for no logical reason whatsoever.
In those moments, saying “God is greater than the highs and lows” can feel… hollow.
Like something you’d cross-stitch on a pillow but not actually lean on.
But that’s exactly when the symbol matters most.
What the Symbol Actually Means (Not Just Looks Cute)
The G>^v meaning is simple:
- G = God
- ^ = highs
- v = lows
God > highs
God > lows
Which means neither your best day nor your worst day defines ultimate reality.
And honestly? That’s freeing.
Because if God is only present in the highs, then my faith will collapse in the lows.
But if God is greater than both, then neither extreme gets the final word.
Faith During Hard Times Isn’t Loud
I used to think faith during hard times meant being unshakeable.
Like standing on a cliff with wind in your hair shouting, “I TRUST YOU, GOD!”
In reality?
It’s more like whispering, “Okay… I’m still here.”
The Book of Job is a whole masterclass in this. Job loses everything. Everything. And yet, somehow, he keeps wrestling with God instead of walking away.
That’s not flashy faith.
That’s stubborn hope.
And stubborn hope is powerful.
When I Mistook Highs for God
Let me confess something slightly embarrassing.
There was a season when I equated emotional highs with God’s approval.
If worship felt electric? God was close.
If prayer felt dry? God was distant.
That mindset wrecked me.
Because emotions fluctuate. They’re like Midwest weather—sunny at noon, thunderstorm by dinner.
But the idea that God is greater than the highs and lows means His presence isn’t measured by my mood.
The Book of Hebrews talks about God being the same yesterday, today, and forever.
Not “the same when I feel inspired.”
The same.
Steady.
Constant.
Pop Culture Side Note Because Why Not
You know in Inside Out how Joy tries to run the entire emotional control panel and it totally backfires?
That’s me when I try to cling to highs and avoid lows at all costs.
But growth requires both.
Joy and Sadness both had to exist for Riley to mature.
And maybe—just maybe—highs and lows both exist to deepen us, not define us.
Christian Hope in Suffering (Not the Cringe Version)
When people hear “Christian hope in suffering,” they sometimes picture fake smiles and forced positivity.
I can’t do that.
I once tried to slap a Bible verse on a painful situation like it was duct tape.
Didn’t work.
Real hope looks more like this:
- Crying and praying.
- Questioning and staying.
- Doubting and not quitting.
It’s messy.
But it’s anchored.
The Book of Psalms is full of raw emotion. “How long, O Lord?” shows up more than once.
And yet—again and again—there’s this return to trust.
That rhythm? That’s hope.
The Danger of Letting Lows Define You
Lows can lie.
They whisper:
- This is permanent.
- You’ll never recover.
- You’ve failed beyond repair.
But if God is greater than the lows, then the lows don’t get to narrate your story.
I’ve had seasons where I felt stuck. Like progress had stalled. Like everyone else was sprinting while I was spiritually limping.
But looking back? Those seasons built depth.
Empathy.
Patience.
Things I didn’t ask for—but needed.
The Quiet Power of Perspective
Here’s what I’ve learned (and I’m still learning it, to be clear):
When I’m in a high, I try to enjoy it without worshiping it.
When I’m in a low, I try to endure it without absolutizing it.
Because God is greater than both.
He’s not amplified by my success or diminished by my struggle.
That perspective shifts everything.
It steadies me when I’m tempted to spiral.
It humbles me when I’m tempted to boast.
It reminds me that my circumstances are chapters—not the whole book.
A Conversation I’ll Never Forget
A friend once told me during a hard season, “Feelings are real, but they’re not rulers.”
That line stuck.
Highs are real.
Lows are real.
But neither are rulers.
God is.
And if He’s good—if He’s steady—if He’s greater—then my emotional extremes don’t control the narrative.
Why This Symbol Matters
The God greater than symbol meaning isn’t about aesthetics.
It’s about anchoring.
It’s a quiet declaration that says:
- My best day doesn’t define me.
- My worst day doesn’t define me.
- God does.
And that truth becomes a symbol of hope not because life gets easier—but because hope gets stronger.
Final Ramble (You Knew It Was Coming)
I still get caught up in highs.
I still dread lows.
I still overanalyze text messages and replay awkward conversations in my head at midnight.
But the older I get, the more I cling to this simple truth:
God Is Greater Than the Highs and Lows.
Greater than my excitement.
Greater than my disappointment.
Greater than my overthinking.
Greater than my fear.
And honestly? That steadiness is what keeps me going.
Not hype.
Not denial.
Hope.
Messy, stubborn, coffee-fueled hope.
And if you’re somewhere between a mountaintop and a valley right now—same.
Just remember: neither one is ultimate.
God is.
And that’s enough to keep walking.
