As I lay in bed waiting to go to sleep I hear the pounding waves of the nearby beach; if not distracting it’s therapy for the senses and the soul. I’m suddenly reminded of the awesome testimony of those waves for God. This is Psalm 93 -- the numerical leader of a range of psalms (93-100) which herald God’s reign over everything.
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It is concise; five solid verses of prose, consisting of sixteen lines of power. It attests to Yahweh’s absolute dominion over the earth, its foundations, land, seas, heavens -- it cannot be moved. He’s ‘robed in majesty’ and ‘armed with strength’ such that no one and nothing can compare. Such is the sea a metaphor for strength of grace; it’s him! Like the mightiest typhoon; that’s also him!
It is concise; five solid verses of prose, consisting of sixteen lines of power. It attests to Yahweh’s absolute dominion over the earth, its foundations, land, seas, heavens -- it cannot be moved. He’s ‘robed in majesty’ and ‘armed with strength’ such that no one and nothing can compare. Such is the sea a metaphor for strength of grace; it’s him! Like the mightiest typhoon; that’s also him!
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The depth and breadth and width and height of God cannot be plumbed. As Paul said to the Ephesians, we can but hope to grasp and fathom this. ‘The seas have lifted up’ indeed. The seas are but one manifestation of his marvellous creation; he is infinitely mightier than these. The tamest waters swallow humankind, yet they evaporate in sight of the Lord. How small we are.
The depth and breadth and width and height of God cannot be plumbed. As Paul said to the Ephesians, we can but hope to grasp and fathom this. ‘The seas have lifted up’ indeed. The seas are but one manifestation of his marvellous creation; he is infinitely mightier than these. The tamest waters swallow humankind, yet they evaporate in sight of the Lord. How small we are.
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I will miss not living by the sea. The pounding waves so vividly remind me of God’s tantalising grace. In all its regal splendour, my God is projected upon a world that does not see and does not care to see. How pitiable we are not to see the sheer brilliance of him who creates. He concomitantly is. Yet we do not see. We do not miss it. Yet I will; him in it, in fact.
I will miss not living by the sea. The pounding waves so vividly remind me of God’s tantalising grace. In all its regal splendour, my God is projected upon a world that does not see and does not care to see. How pitiable we are not to see the sheer brilliance of him who creates. He concomitantly is. Yet we do not see. We do not miss it. Yet I will; him in it, in fact.
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Copyright © 2008, S. J. Wickham. All Rights Reserved Worldwide.
Copyright © 2008, S. J. Wickham. All Rights Reserved Worldwide.
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