Yesterday I watched in the moonlight as giant pipeline waves crashed on the rocky cliffs around a usually quiet beach in Plum Cove. The storm was resting, gathering strength, but the sea raged and splashed and glowed like fireworks in the eerie calm of the night. I sat on the rocks and soaked it in.
With awe I recalled the day before- the tiny and beautiful creation of God, a daughter so sweet and perfect. How gentle God is! His attention to detail so tender and perfectly working together- every bone, muscle, nerve, organ, and cell. He knows every hair on Amara's tiny head, and he knows her future and what she will hope for, who she will love, who she will be. And He loves her- now and forever. He suffered and died so that she might spend eternity with Him and know Him and know His love. Amazing.
Then I turn my thoughts back to the moonlit sea in front of me and marvel at God's power. He could destroy us in an instant. None of us could stand against those waves crashing against the cliffs. Earlier that day I had watched the gales of wind- giant pines bending toward the ground, smaller trees uprooted, rows of street lights taken down. Hurricanes are marvelous and terrifying. I thought of how foolish we are- to think we control our lives, to think man has power over the world. We are at God's mercy, and thankfully, His mercy is great. The waves on the beach were terrifying and beautiful, strong and mighty, reflections of the great power of the Creator.
The contrast of His gentleness and His power. We can never hope to understand Him though we fill our days with study. And our problems seems so small, and wisdom seem like foolishness when we contemplate God.
