We packed our bags and headed for the Outer Banks last week. Finally, a trip that we’ve longed for was becoming reality. The boys remembered our last beach trip and the hours of Daddy time. But the girls had no recollections of the ocean, the sand, the sound or the Daddy time.
We arrived in the early evening. After a flurry of unpacking the truck, making a grocery store run, throwing together supper, I finally settled down to relax. I have been dreaming of drifting off to sleep with the ocean’s sound in my ears, so I opened the windows wide . . . . . . .and was disconcerted to realize that the ocean is LOUD, louder than I remembered. I wasn’t sure I could sleep with all that noise and regretted not bringing my earplugs.
The churning waves, the forward surge and recession —- it looked so fierce and endless. The ocean is vast. Its motion ceaseless. I love it, but it is overwhelming and I am afraid of it. Still, I am pulled to the shore. It strikes me that I feel much the same way about God.
God is fierce. He is vast and endless.
And dangerous. Only a fool would think otherwise.
I love Him, but He overwhelms me and I am afraid of Him. Still, I am drawn to Him.
To my surprise, that overwhelmingly thunderous Surf lulled me gently off to sleep after all.
Prairie Sings 
Beautiful.