Thy Sea is so Great

It’s interesting to me how God can use circumstance and/or coincidence to remind us of his constant hand in our lives. A friend of mine says it like this, “Coincidence is God’s fingerprints on our lives.” It couldn’t be more true, and it couldn’t be more real. Attentiveness to God in all of our circumstances and through all of our coincidences opens new doors to engaging our heavenly father, and when we become students of our surroundings there is much to learn about the workings and caring manner which God walks with us and protects us.

I guess it might go without saying that this particular posting is actually a derivative of a journal writing I wrote a little more than three years ago. In a fortunate collision of some current circumstance and reminiscence, I was drawn back to re-read an entry that marked a point of revelation in the way I viewed God, especially as it pertains to how I view myself in relationship with God.

When John F. Kennedy was President, he kept a wooden placard on his desk in the oval office. The placard was given to him by Admiral Hyman Rickover, a naval commander credited with being the father of the nuclear navy, a man whom my grandfather personally knew and worked closely with for much of his professional life. It wasn’t until about three years ago that I had any idea that such a ornament existed, but the words engraved upon the simple token of appreciation gifted to President Kennedy struck my with a level of profound depth for which I am increasingly grateful. Their proverbial wisdom has reminded me often of the foundation in which I am grounded.

The little wooden plaque bore a humble appearance but at least to me it seemed to carry a profound weight. On it was engraved this, the Breton Fisherman’s Prayer, which reads.

“O God, Thy sea is so great, and my boat is so small.”

Oddly, I only this week found out that my grandfather was given the same plaque by Admiral Rickover. I can only wonder if the wisdom of the engraving ever meant anything to him…but the mystery only serves to open my heart and mind to the possibility of how big God really is…coincidence, fingerprints, God’s hand.

Sometimes the smallest of seeds sprout the biggest of trees, and for me this simple prayer, this simple statement of faith caught me at a time when I desperately needed to not only hear its truth, but practice its wisdom. The poignancy was like a stiff jab that caught me across the chin, and so now years later the tiny seed has sunk its roots deep, and the Breton prayer is a regular keepsake that I am reminded of when my life is experiencing rough seas and I’m not so sure my small boat can make it.

Three years ago when I first saw the prayer, I was at a place where it felt that just about everything was falling apart around me, it seemed that no matter how hard I tried, nothing, absolutely nothing, turned out as planned. I was straining at the oars, desperately trying to go my own direction, when clearly God had other things in store, instead of steering me out of the storm, he wanted me in it. It was as if I had boarded the wrong train and had fallen asleep, only to wake up at the end of the line, miles from where I wanted to be, stranded with no clue how to get home. God taught me volumes through that challenging phase, and through it he certainly helped my faith become much more “seafaring”, and much more capable to weather the future storms that inevitably came (…and continue to come).

Our circumstances do much to ready us for what God’s doing, whether they be good or bad, circumstance frames in context the way we see and seek God. Circumstances can be the difference between a seed that sprouts, and the seed that withers in the sun. Circumstance is the preparation of the canvas by a masterful artist.

In embracing the Breton Prayer, we rightfully surrender ourselves to the sea, knowing that however big out boats may be, that in fact, they are quite small. And we rightfully acknowledge God as the owner and master of us, our boats, and all that is in, above, below and beyond the sea. We cast sail, trusting simply and completely in nothing more and nothing less than God’s promised provision and care over us. And in the moments when seas get rough, we can confidently sail on knowing that no single thing governs Gods gracious tide more than his abounding love for us…and whether by storms or by the peace of a still sea, all we know and all we see are rightfully his to command.

When I was a boy, my father and I would go on adventures together, he would often take me places or have me do things that at the time were utterly terrifying. When I lacked the will to go further, I was left no choice but to resist my Father’s seemingly reckless behavior. I remember so clearly my Dad asking me at these moments “Do you trust me?”, often the answer in my head was “NO!”, but I knew in some way that my Dad had only the best intentions for me, and would never put me in harm’s way if there was not a greater benefit. Looking back on some of those terrifying moments, it just so happens they are some of my fondest memories with my Dad, and some of the greatest experiences of my childhood…it just took a little fear, and a little faith to get there.

I guess it is no surprise that our Father in heaven has some spectacular adventures in store, yet often it seems that in order to get in on God’s action, we have to head into some treacherous waters. And it is in those times when we must know and trust God’s good heart for us, his deep love, and that he does not wish harm upon us even in the slightest, but rather he wants us to taste the fullness and richness of who he is. I feel that for every storm of anxiety, fear, heartache and doubt, I learn to taste and see new rich flavors of who God is, I trust and love him more, and yet I fear the vastness and mystery of his sea no less, maybe I’m just becoming a more seasoned sailor.

To close, here is the last paragraph from me in a storm at sea (figuratively) three years ago…If I have learned anything over the past three years, it is that God undoubtedly is there in our storms, in really really real kinds of ways…through my storms I’ve learned to be a better sailor in God’s great sea.

“At the end of the day, none of the things that are making my life difficult are gone, nor does it seem like they will be gone any day soon. While I can not understand the course of time and the events that take place between the hours and days of our lives as they pass along, I can feel comfortable in my lack of understanding. If we knew what was really going on, serving God would require no faith and no trust. I am confident that God allows us to get to and often takes us to place where we are left to question, ”What are you doing?” only to be met with his simple reply, “Do you trust me?” I know that right now there is much going on which I cannot understand, however, I can stand at the shore of this great sea, and trust that the hand that has unsettled the waves, will also keep me afloat in the midst of the storm.” – Me, Sept 22, 2005

If it takes storms to let me see, know, and love God more each day, then I pray that he takes me to sea. And I pray that if it takes a storm for you to see the bigness and realness of a God that loves you, then I pray that you would never know a still sea.

Safe Sailing,
CP

Chrispanoff.blogspot.com