Distressed, I yell out for attention from my LORD. Where is He? It’s me, right here, right now, that’s agonizing here, churning all night in terror—in fear that He’s finally given up on me. Meditating on myself, I imagine the Lord moving on, taking his graciousness, his long-forgiving love, his looks of favor, those promises—all of it packed up.
Meandering, then fixated on points of the past I find myself in those waters, those chaotic waters, churning and overpowering and swallowing up my every breath—like they are now. Where’s the loving hand of God to the rescue?
Hey, how’d I know about that? That powerful yet gentle hand of God? It’s been here before in my life? Making things out of that chaos, embedded in the centuries, in the years, in the days, working wonders unimaginable—maybe that’s why I’ve forgotten? stuck on the channel beaming out my pitiful self. That strong arm of His does it all. How is it we forget? or deny? or minimize such power and glory?
Voltages crackling through the heavens, thunder smacking the ear drums. Where do those torrents of boiling rain end, the wild seas begin? And here’s the Lord…calmly ordering things about, making way for his little flock—even me—making us all part of his story. Praise and thanksgiving.