One night our weather forecasters predicted our area’s worst storm in thirty years, with winds expected to reach hurricane force. With fascination we watched the white sheets of rain blowing across our lawn at a forty-five degree angle.
Later, we drove down to the village harbor and watched the boiling sea slam into the cliffs. Waves jostled each other in every direction as the wind howled and shook the van in which we sat. Three miles away, Hook Lighthouse blinked through the mists of spray. The nearly-full moon scooted through low clouds, making the scene was wilder and grander than I can describe.
To get closer still to the panorama, my sisters and I climbed out of the van, held onto our fluttering skirts and scarves, and peered over the harbor wall. We leaned into the strong gusts and squealed with delight. Then while we watched the breakers, a nearby wave broke and sent its salty spray over the wall—and over us. Splash!
The salt and sand stung my face and hung onto my eyebrows. I felt gloriously part of the wind and water and moonlight. The storm had burst itself over me; I could even taste the salt when I licked my lips.
Too Big For Words
We can find wonderful, nice-sounding words to describe God while we observe Him at a safe distance. But only when we step into His presence and relinquish the tidy boxes in which we’ve kept Him does His beauty and grandeur and boundlessness become real, really real to us. His attributes are no longer merely nice thoughts. Instead, the ideas become experiential—we’ve touched and tasted the wonder of Himself. “Taste and see that the Lord is good!”
God is our Creator,
He is Generous,