Thriving...in Spite of It

Standing on a shore and watching the waves rhythmically rolling in, I would say my fascination is as perpetual and continuous as the never ending ripple or crash they deliver to the shoreline. Whether it’s Galveston or Myrtle Beach, San Diego or even Lake Hamilton, I’m completely mesmerized.  I watch and I wonder. I wonder about the God who carved out the shores made me and knows me. And just as He told the waters “go here, and no further,” He has set boundaries and protection around me, carving out a path for my very own unique purpose.  I wonder about the God who sets all these waves and tides in perpetual but perfect motion with the laws of nature, rising and ebbing in perfect timing with the moon’s mysterious pull—how can He have the time or concern to orchestrate the things in my life, as well? After all, it’s “just me.” But it’s “just me” that He has in his hand. His right hand — the hand of authority, as when a king raises his scepter in his right hand and mighty men bow, crowds