I love staring at the ocean.
Having grown up in the Midwest, the waves I’m accustomed to are more of the “amber” and “grain” variety. Since the first time I set foot on a Brownsville, Texas beach in my late teens, I’ve been captivated by the powerful flow of trillions of gallons of salt water. Even though I’ve gazed at the surf in places all over the United States and Caribbean at least a couple dozen times, I’m still just as amazed and soothed by the sight of it now as I was then.
It mirrors the way God moves in our lives.
Sailors and surfers know the strength of the tide is “out there,” far off shore. What we feel washing across our ankles with a tranquil swish is a fraction of the energy created – a pale shadow of the unbalancing force generated. Occasionally, a stray wave reminds us of the magnificent power we are surrounded by, but in general what we experience hardly knock us off our feet.
We adapt to the gentle current and quickly lose track of where we’re standing.
There, with the water rushing over our toes, we easily forget we are in the midst of something far larger than we are — planted firmly on its fringe and unable to quantify its mightiness. The miraculous, the tremendous work of pulling together all of creation into a synchronous story, is done by Him “out there.” On the shores of this life, we fail to remember billions and billions of things are gathered together for what we perceive as the observable results of just one day.
God bends space and time to get us in the exact place to receive what we need when we need it.
Trusting Him is counterintuitive. The vast majority of His work cannot be seen. It’s challenging to even sense, as we focus so much on what is tangible and measurable. Sometimes we acknowledge He is on the task of building something that will wash up at our feet, yet ignore the fact the sheer grandeur of His design would boggle our tiny minds.
Pacing anxiously, we check our watches and cross our arms in frustration.
We walk along like spoiled children, kicking the sand and utterly oblivious to the possibility He did anything simply because it falls short of the huge movement we consider appropriate. Wrapped up in our desires and our timetables, we’re exposed for the petulant, selfish, unappreciative creatures we are.
Miracle of miracles, He loves us and keeps exerting Himself “out there” anyway.
Have some patience.
The tide is coming in.