I live in the land-locked state of Colorado and sometimes I miss the water. Before I moved here I lived six blocks from Lake Michigan, our own little ocean. From my east side house, I could easily walk to the beach and feel my feet on the wet sand, hear the soothing lilt of the waves and the caw of the seagulls overhead.
Today I walked on the beach in Denver. Weird, huh? Yep, there’s a place—Cherry Creek Reservoir—with water, sand and mountains in the distance. I enjoyed the familiar hum of motor boats and jet skis. I smiled at the sailboats drifting along on a Sunday afternoon. As I breathed in the fresh air and felt the warm sun on my shoulders, I noticed a few aspens leaves turning gold on a trees replete with green ones. Can it really be September already?
I love watching the rhythmic cadence of the waves. In and out, in and out. It never ceases. How, wondered, do the waves know when to stop? Why don’t they keep going farther up the shoreline?
Then I remembered…
In his dialogue with Job (as in my-life-is-totally-falling-apart Job of the Old Testament), God reminded him that He was the one who created and commanded nature. God is the one who said, “…This far you may come and no farther; here is where your proud waves halt?” (Job 38:11)
Boundaries in nature.
It comforts me to know that God is in control. That there is order, structure, and design in nature, as well as freedom, creativity and beauty. May your life resonate with the sights and sounds of God’s handiwork in your life—as Keats says, “a thing of beauty and a joy forever.”