The Shore Along Your Ocean
I stood on the shoreline in just the right place so that every once in a while a wave would just barely come up to my toes. I watched the waves crash and tumble, and I found it suddenly fascinating.
I found it fascinating that the waves just kept coming. Unlike the waves on a lake from the wake of a boat that gradually dwindle and disappear into still, quiet waters once again, these waves kept powerfully coming and crashing and coming and crashing without losing force or fervor.
Then, I found it fascinating that the waves could be stirred up in the first place. I know there are great scientific explanations involving gravity and the moon and all sorts of unseen forces, but none of that mattered in the moment. All that mattered was amazement. I needed no explanation, only awe.
And I looked across the horizon to where the blue of sky and the blue of water meet in a blurry line. How far away could my eyes see? A mile? Or two hundred miles? And I realized that if my eyes could see all the way across that ocean, I would see the shores of Africa.
And then I looked down to my own tiny feet, and I found it absolutely fascinating to be standing ankle deep in that meaningfully vast ocean. I have heard it said that only the ocean is deep enough for a whale to swim and shallow enough for a child to play. Standing there only a few feet into the expanse of the ocean, I felt like such a child, such a small daughter of the King of kings. I purposefully chose a song on my ipod by Addison Road called "What Do I Know of Holy" that goes like this:
What do I know of you
who spoke me into motion?
Where have I even stood
but the shore along your ocean?
Are you fire? Are you fury?
Are you sacred? Are you beautiful?
What do I know?
What do I know of holy?
So I stood ankle deep on the shore of God's vast ocean, knowing that with every step out, the water would get deeper and deeper for miles and miles until way way out there whales swim in mile-deep aquariums and light-up fish glow where the water is too deep for the sun's beams to reach.
Where have I even stood but the shore along your ocean?
We are only ankle deep in God's great love, which grows deeper and deeper and wider and wider with each step in His direction. His love, like ocean waves, powerfully sweeps over us relentlessly, over and over again, without losing force or fervor. His love, like the great deep, is so enormous that we look at it and are unsure of whether we are seeing only a mile or rather hundreds of them. "If grace is an ocean, we're all sinking."
What do I know of holy? Where have I even stood but the shore along your ocean?
His love, like the ocean, is big enough for a whale to swim and shallow enough for a child to play.
Suddenly, I was no longer satisfied with where I stood with the waves coming just close enough to lick my toes. Something - no, someone - beckoned me out. So I took one step more, one step farther out, one step deeper, and one step closer.
I found it fascinating that the waves just kept coming. Unlike the waves on a lake from the wake of a boat that gradually dwindle and disappear into still, quiet waters once again, these waves kept powerfully coming and crashing and coming and crashing without losing force or fervor.
Then, I found it fascinating that the waves could be stirred up in the first place. I know there are great scientific explanations involving gravity and the moon and all sorts of unseen forces, but none of that mattered in the moment. All that mattered was amazement. I needed no explanation, only awe.
And I looked across the horizon to where the blue of sky and the blue of water meet in a blurry line. How far away could my eyes see? A mile? Or two hundred miles? And I realized that if my eyes could see all the way across that ocean, I would see the shores of Africa.
And then I looked down to my own tiny feet, and I found it absolutely fascinating to be standing ankle deep in that meaningfully vast ocean. I have heard it said that only the ocean is deep enough for a whale to swim and shallow enough for a child to play. Standing there only a few feet into the expanse of the ocean, I felt like such a child, such a small daughter of the King of kings. I purposefully chose a song on my ipod by Addison Road called "What Do I Know of Holy" that goes like this:
What do I know of you
who spoke me into motion?
Where have I even stood
but the shore along your ocean?
Are you fire? Are you fury?
Are you sacred? Are you beautiful?
What do I know?
What do I know of holy?
So I stood ankle deep on the shore of God's vast ocean, knowing that with every step out, the water would get deeper and deeper for miles and miles until way way out there whales swim in mile-deep aquariums and light-up fish glow where the water is too deep for the sun's beams to reach.
Where have I even stood but the shore along your ocean?
We are only ankle deep in God's great love, which grows deeper and deeper and wider and wider with each step in His direction. His love, like ocean waves, powerfully sweeps over us relentlessly, over and over again, without losing force or fervor. His love, like the great deep, is so enormous that we look at it and are unsure of whether we are seeing only a mile or rather hundreds of them. "If grace is an ocean, we're all sinking."
What do I know of holy? Where have I even stood but the shore along your ocean?
His love, like the ocean, is big enough for a whale to swim and shallow enough for a child to play.
Suddenly, I was no longer satisfied with where I stood with the waves coming just close enough to lick my toes. Something - no, someone - beckoned me out. So I took one step more, one step farther out, one step deeper, and one step closer.
Comments
Post a Comment