Have any of you ever been to the beach? I assume that at one point in your life, you must have, or you must have seen a decent sized body of water.
I live five minutes away from the sea, so I am well acquainted with it, but each time, as I step out onto the sand, I can’t help but just stare at the water. I strain my eyes, trying to see to the other side, but it just goes on until the lines between the sea and the sky are blurred and my eyes hurt from trying to see so far.
Have you ever seen the sea during a storm?
The sea looks so calm, normally, lapping gently at the shore, brushing by toddlers, wetting the feet of walking tourists. It looks so blue and like a gentle giant, gently bobbing up and down, sending small waves to play tag with those who occupy it.
Then it rages in a storm. The small waves crash against the beach, making sand fly, no longer tiny waves. The water turns grey and stormy, flinging itself onto the rocks with every beat of the tide. It foams and roars and that’s all you can hear.
The drum of the raging ocean. No longer the tinkling of bells that it normally sends, but a drum, a mighty drum, constantly pounding and roaring in your ears till you fear your head might explode from the sheer power of it all.
You’re afraid now. You should be. The sea is no longer a gentle giant, but a man at war, but nonetheless, still beautiful. Not a gentle, peaceful beauty. No, you don’t trust your kids with it now. It’s a terrible, powerful beauty.
But it’s still the same sea.
The winds howl in your ears as you stand on the bank, the trees blowing with the rage of the storm, and the waves nearly overtaking your feet as you just stare. The sea is angry.
And then it subsides, and this rage that you have seen so clearly ebbs away slowly, carefully. The water turns blue as the clouds roll away to reveal a cheekily smiling sun.
The sea laps against the beach again, as if to apologize for the tantrum earlier.
The trees no longer bend in reverence, but stand tall.
And the balance is restored.
But for those moments, that you stood, watching this giant rage, you realized how small you were.
How breakable we are.
And it’s a scary thing, isn’t it? To realize we aren’t invincible?
But at the same time, it just fills us with awe. That our Maker created this thundering giant, and he has control over the rage of the sea. The sea that has swallowed boats, and harbors creatures with faces that we can’t even imagine. The sea, who goes so deep that light can not penetrate it’s depths. The sea, where an ongoing battle of life and death rages.
Our God made that. He controls it.
I feel so small. So in awe.
If you ever get to the point where you feel like you have control of the world, if you ever feel better than the entire population of this earth, if you start to think, that maybe, maybe you just might know something God doesn’t, go watch a sea in the middle of a storm.
I believe you’ll change your mind.