I’ve told this story before.

We were at the edge of the Atlantic. The mighty ocean that stretched far and away, beyond what our minds could comprehend.

My three-year-old, barefoot and brazen, took several steps into the cool water every time a wave receded. Then, as soon as the next mass threatened to crash at his toes, he turned and ran as fast as he could.

He taunted the sea.

In his finite mind, he was the victor. He was winning at his own game.

And the look on his proud face said it all — he felt on top of the world. Invincible.

He could outrun the ocean.

As I stood behind him, more than mildly amused, my parental perspective knew better. I knew what that body of water could do to his small frame. It could swallow him up in a heartbeat. Its power was no match for him.

Yet he thought he could take it on.

 

_God alone stretches out the heavens and treads on the waves of the sea._

 

Don’t we behave the same way, sometimes? In our pride and bravado, we think we can tackle whatever problems come our way. We have solutions and plans for everything.

We think we can conquer the waves.

Yet we forget that we’re the created, not the creator. We are the clay, not the Potter.

So we would do well to take a step back and see our smallness before the mighty sea. To see our smallness before the Almighty God.

This is Day 21 in the series, 31 Days of Five Minute Free Writes. Click here for more.

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