The floods have lifted up, O Lord. The floods have lifted up their voice. The floods lift up their roaring. Mightier than the thunders of many waters, mightier than the waves of the sea, the Lord on high is mighty! (Verses 3-4)
"Fear not, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by name and you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you. When you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God." Isaiah 43
We live a short six blocks from the ocean. At night we can hear the waves crash onto shore in their rhythmic back and forth across the sand. Most of the time the water is playful, beckoning us to come join the dolphins as they ride on the crests of waves. Once in a while, though, the ocean moves angrily toward land rushing in fitful asymmetry as it swirls and splashes, whitecapping and foaming. Daring us to approach it lest it eat us alive. Once a month sirens blare reminding us that the Pacific can turn ugly, rising with such force that it wipes out entire towns in tsunami waves.
We've all seen the pictures of Indonesia when up out of the ocean the mighty tsunami came menacing and deadly as it raised up a massive hungry wave that devoured over 240,000 people, sweeping away homes and businesses in a moment of fomenting power. Then like a horror movie monster, it retreated into the ocean, settling back into its place, as if nothing ever happened. Beneath the waves were scuba divers. Down eighty or ninety feet glibly breathing and wondering at the beauty of sea life on the ocean floor. Safe. A counter intuitive notion that the safest place to be in a tsunami is in the ocean. The pressure of the passing wave pushed the divers down a bit closer to the ocean floor, but they were unaware of the devastation onshore until their ascent.
Uncontrollable chaos. That's what happens in a flood. Water rushing. We aren't powerful enough to hold a hand up and order the oncoming deluge to stop. Most of the time we can't outrun it, either. Its unexpected nature catches us by surprise and we are caught up in circumstances well beyond our control. No one is exempt from occasional flood waters. Some face tsunamis. The promise isn't that we won't, in this life, have chaos we can't control. That is a given. The promise to those of us who know Christ is that He is there with us. He's mightier than what should crush us. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, He is with me. To keep us from being overwhelmed. To reach out His hand, riding the wave with us. Assuring us that the ocean He created isn't more potent than the Omnipotent. Jesus said to His disciples when the boat was about to sink, "Why are you afraid?" He wasn't. Mighty rolling surf is nothing to Him. He understands it. Commands it. So what's the big deal? The inference being that if the disciples understood He is God they should have no reason to be so scared of water. If God is in the midst of the storm with us, because He loves us, the rising tide shouldn't destroy us. Jesus can put us in the very midst of the ocean, down in its heart, sequestered from the giant tsunami building and bursting overhead. Safe in the very chaos that destroys others.
In whatever storm we face today, God has promised to be with us. Told us the flood will not overwhelm us. The devastation will not consume us. He didn't say there wouldn't be a storm. God said when you face the raging waters, He will be there. We've already been saved...before the storm ever hits. The redeemed. Bought with the high, high price of a dear Son's blood. Too precious to leave afloat. Too beloved to see us consumed. We are His. He knows our name today. Mightier than any chaos endeavoring to ruin us. Able with His hand to stop the approaching tsunami, save us out of it, bury us beneath it or take us home. All good outcomes. For we are precious to the Life Guard who spared not His only Son so we could be thrown a life rope in the storm.
"Fear not, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by name and you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you. When you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God." Isaiah 43
We live a short six blocks from the ocean. At night we can hear the waves crash onto shore in their rhythmic back and forth across the sand. Most of the time the water is playful, beckoning us to come join the dolphins as they ride on the crests of waves. Once in a while, though, the ocean moves angrily toward land rushing in fitful asymmetry as it swirls and splashes, whitecapping and foaming. Daring us to approach it lest it eat us alive. Once a month sirens blare reminding us that the Pacific can turn ugly, rising with such force that it wipes out entire towns in tsunami waves.
We've all seen the pictures of Indonesia when up out of the ocean the mighty tsunami came menacing and deadly as it raised up a massive hungry wave that devoured over 240,000 people, sweeping away homes and businesses in a moment of fomenting power. Then like a horror movie monster, it retreated into the ocean, settling back into its place, as if nothing ever happened. Beneath the waves were scuba divers. Down eighty or ninety feet glibly breathing and wondering at the beauty of sea life on the ocean floor. Safe. A counter intuitive notion that the safest place to be in a tsunami is in the ocean. The pressure of the passing wave pushed the divers down a bit closer to the ocean floor, but they were unaware of the devastation onshore until their ascent.
Uncontrollable chaos. That's what happens in a flood. Water rushing. We aren't powerful enough to hold a hand up and order the oncoming deluge to stop. Most of the time we can't outrun it, either. Its unexpected nature catches us by surprise and we are caught up in circumstances well beyond our control. No one is exempt from occasional flood waters. Some face tsunamis. The promise isn't that we won't, in this life, have chaos we can't control. That is a given. The promise to those of us who know Christ is that He is there with us. He's mightier than what should crush us. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, He is with me. To keep us from being overwhelmed. To reach out His hand, riding the wave with us. Assuring us that the ocean He created isn't more potent than the Omnipotent. Jesus said to His disciples when the boat was about to sink, "Why are you afraid?" He wasn't. Mighty rolling surf is nothing to Him. He understands it. Commands it. So what's the big deal? The inference being that if the disciples understood He is God they should have no reason to be so scared of water. If God is in the midst of the storm with us, because He loves us, the rising tide shouldn't destroy us. Jesus can put us in the very midst of the ocean, down in its heart, sequestered from the giant tsunami building and bursting overhead. Safe in the very chaos that destroys others.
In whatever storm we face today, God has promised to be with us. Told us the flood will not overwhelm us. The devastation will not consume us. He didn't say there wouldn't be a storm. God said when you face the raging waters, He will be there. We've already been saved...before the storm ever hits. The redeemed. Bought with the high, high price of a dear Son's blood. Too precious to leave afloat. Too beloved to see us consumed. We are His. He knows our name today. Mightier than any chaos endeavoring to ruin us. Able with His hand to stop the approaching tsunami, save us out of it, bury us beneath it or take us home. All good outcomes. For we are precious to the Life Guard who spared not His only Son so we could be thrown a life rope in the storm.
That preaches!
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