seas and storms

There are no clear analogies in this collection of thoughts from a night I spent standing on the ocean shore in Boracay, Philippines. I can't discern how exactly, but somehow these thoughts to me reflect intimacy with my Lord. 

If you've ever watched the waves crash onto the shore at night, you'll know what I mean when I say it's one of the most terrifying, mysteriously beautiful sights you can experience.

All you can see are the white linings of the coming waves, one crashing then another. But beyond the smallest white lining you can see, you can see nothing. Only massive darkness. You can't even see the horizon, unless a storm lights up the sky every so often -- and even then, it lasts but a blink.

You can't discern the ocean from the sky, the earth from the heavens, it all sinks into the darkness. But you know that there is a distinction, a horizon, even if you can't see the line. And you know the ocean is huge, even if you can't see its breadth.

Sometimes at night, all you can see are the big waves right in front of you. And if something bigger and scarier were headed your way from out of the darkness, you wouldn't be able to see it coming. For all you know, the big waves could actually be tiny ripples of something far worse and much greater to come.

The ocean you can't see but know is there is deep, and it is wide, and it is unsafe, unfamiliar and mysterious. But it is beautiful, it is powerful, it is surprisingly comforting -- and it instills a fear and awe in me that makes me think: how much more should I fear and stand in awe of the Creator of this huge yet relatively small creation?

When I stand on the shoreline, water rushing past my feet as they sink beneath the sand, and I'm staring into darkness, into shadows of clouds that cover stars, into lighting that threatens to cover the night, I realize -- how small am I!

I am this tiny body standing on a long stretch of beach, bordered by this big scary ocean, contained on a small spinning sphere, suspended in one of many galaxies, floating in a boundless universe, held by the hands of an endless, all-powerful God.

Suddenly it is no longer the ocean I am captivated by, but its Maker. I am suddenly aware of the fact that I am called beauty by this same God. The same God who created this mesmerizing, terrifying sea created the inner workings of my being. The same God who stirs the terror of the sea is the same God who calmed the winds and sea a couple thousands years ago for the fright of a few doubtful disciples. And He is the same God who can calm the storms inside me.

"Deep calls to deep 
in the roar of Your waterfalls; 
all Your waves and breakers 
have swept over me. 
By day the Lord directs His love, 
at night His song is with me -- 
a prayer to the God of my life." 
(Psalm 42:7-8) 

"The sea is His, for He made it." 
(Psalm 95:5)