For most of my childhood, I grew up near the beach. In fact, I lived across the street from the ocean. My father was the pastor of a small church in a small tourist town right on the coast of the Atlantic Ocean. I have very fond memories of the years I lived in Massachusetts: the beautiful sunrises and sunsets we would see, going to the beach on hot summer days, kayaking in the wharf, playing with the crabs or finding sea glass among the millions of tiny rocks on the shoreline. If I close my eyes and focus, I can hear the crashing of waves, etched permanently in my mind.
Our church was known as Pigeon Cove Chapel. The small white church stood right on the cove on the small, but tranquil, Granite Street. Stained glass windows lined the sanctuary, two columns of pews ran the length of the small room. I remember the smell of dust and pine in the back room where we would ring the large bell before service began. The best part of that little plot of land was its view of the water. You could cross the lawn and find a beautiful panoramic view of the Atlantic. The deep blue water, the white foamed waves. During the summer, you would see the tall sailboats far in the horizon. During the winter, the sea was stormy gray and the waves crashed against the rocks that surrounded the cove. Sometimes the waves were so powerful, you could stand at the top of the cove and still feel the salty spray of the sea.
When I was there, I did not think much of the sea. To my six-year-old self, it was normal and ordinary. I never knew how lucky I was to live right on the ocean, to see the wonder of the waves right when I woke up. Now, living on the opposite side of the country, in Skagit Valley of Washington State, I realize what a blessing it was.
As well as remembering the beauty and power of the sea, the reflection I find in the waves goes deeper than any depth of the ocean. The strength and majesty of our God can be seen through the power of the ocean. You’ve never seen true power unless you’ve seen the strength of the waves. The water of the ocean can break apart rocks, smooth the edges of glass shards, capsize boats. But it can be equally tranquil as it can be stormy. I’ve seen the ocean at its worst, but I’ve also seen it as its best. The calm blue waters; the picturesque sky, the warm, salty breeze rustling the sea grass. The beauty of the ocean that I hold dear is a reflection of its creator. Our God is so mighty and powerful to create such a beautiful thing. And if you think about how strong the waves are, think again how much stronger God is. When I see the waves, I reflect how beautiful the sea is and how much more beautiful God is. When I think of the stunning colors of the sunrises, it parallels the astonishing glory of God.
By seeing the majesty of God reflected in the ocean, reflected in the waves, I feel a strong sense of faith and hope. To trust in the deity that created something so powerful, to know he is watching over me and loves me--that is fuel enough to refurbish my faith.
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