I was listening to a
lecture the other day for a course I am a taking and on two separate points, I
felt a nagging at my heart. It was like God was saying “Pay attention to this, Katie.
This is something you need to hear right now.” After processing it through,
I’ve now thought maybe I need to pass on my thoughts to others.
My thoughts were snagged
at the first point, when he began discussing Biblical references to water and “the
deep” of Genesis 1:2. The lecturer was explaining that often times this passage
of the deep as being sin, evil, and deception in the Bible, but
instead it was formless and but it was about to be given life through the
breath of God.
Hmm… bear with…switching
gears for a moment now.
We all have our things
that make us uncomfortable and the discomfort easily slips into varying degrees
of fear. I don’t even have to think about mine, or maybe I spend too much time
thinking about mine. The thing(s) that make me most uncomfortable is being in
water and anything that occurs below the surface of large bodies of water. From
the shifting sands below my feet when I stand knee deep and the animals that live
below, to the cracks and crevices of land that has shifted and changed over time. Even the thought of the large amount of wreckage from storms that has been
lost to the depths of the sea, it awful. I just don’t like it. Mainly, I would talk the about my discomfort of how animals are on the far end of the scale for it all in creeping me
out. I avoid them at all cost in the ocean, lakes, or aquariums. And I do not,
I repeat DO NOT, enter their territory. Mind you, I know that many animals
can move quietly, can appear out of nowhere, and have the power to overtake me
quite easily, and not just those animals dwelling in water. Humans too, have the same
behavior. Yet, under the surface of the water so much more is at risk than just
the animals.
Ironically, I have lived
within close proximity of the ocean (100 miles or less) for more than 20 years
of my life. I love spending time on the beach. The smell and sounds of the
beach is an incredible gift to my senses. And now that I’m living in the desert,
the ocean is the environment I miss more than any other. This origin of this sense
of dread toward the ocean is something I can’t fully explain because it was
once non-existent. I enjoyed my time when I played in the ocean as a child. I
used to study ocean animals with fervor (ask my family about the 4th
grade month-long focus on whales, oi vey). I never have been caught in a
rip-tide. I have had some incidents with animals (eels and marlins), but even
when those happened it didn’t stop me in the moment. Yet, I distinctly remember
in my university years not wanting to go out on the Ocean Beach Pier in San
Diego because it extended a quarter mile out into the water where the
likelihood of danger grew with each step. The fear presented itself and grew
from there.
Recently, I was at the
Titanic Museum in Belfast, Northern Ireland. In the year and a half it had been
open, I wasn’t too keen to go to the museum. However, I was with a friend, and
we had agreed we were doing touristy type things, so to the Titanic we went. It
was indeed interesting. Yet, as we moved along chronological layout of the ship’s
history, eventually we would approach the demise of the famed ship, where I knew
we couldn’t escape without some exposure to the wreckage. This meant
underwater. As we entered a theater showing a short documentary, I felt the
shift in my mind, setting in the unease. There were the sound effects of sonar
pings and the breathing through masks. It had the visuals of animals crawling
across the ocean floor and things growing on the boat. Even then cheesy commentary
did nothing to help. I was more and more uncomfortable. Only five minutes
passed, yet it felt so much more drawn out. Then we went downstairs to a movie
screen with frightening creatures. I just passed through the room with little
to no slowing and waited for my friend. The situation was just humorous to her.
What I’ve come to
realize over much thinking. Is that what scares me most about the deep waters
is the unpredictable nature of the environment, compounded with lack of
control and loss of senses.
I’ve been fully
submerged. It can feel like time is standing still, then everything moves at
hyper speed. You can’t hear anything, then sounds are suddenly amplified. You
can’t speak or breathe without additional equipment. And known water dwelling species
are larger than any other land dwelling animals. There deeper in, the less
light there is. All of these things are what scares me.
Going back to my
lecture, the second point that he came to was through Genesis 1:2 where it
says, “The earth was formless and empty, and darkness covered the deep waters.
And the Spirit of God was hovering over the surface of the waters.” From here
light was introduced, and separation of sky and water, and life came forth.
What the lecturer said was that the dark and the deep were still things of God
and he thought they were good. Good! The things I fear he says are good!
Out of the dark, he
brought us so much more than we could imagine. Over the dark, God hovered. From
the beginning, he covered the darkness with His Power, and His Strength, and
His Glory. He wasn’t afraid of it! This hit me straight between the eyes.
Somewhere I lost the wonder of the ocean’s depths and it was replaced with
anxiety and dread. My fascination with the animals was replaced with an
unhealthy view that they were too powerful and strong for me. And somewhere
along the line I’ve taken a view that my journey in draws me deeper into the
unsafe, uncontrollable, dangerous unknown without a protector. The only false
part of that is that I do have a protector. My Protector has never stopped
hovering and breathing life into me.
Even with the Titantic,
they had a protector. The museum portrayed, in brutal honesty, that the captains
were warned by many ships moving along only hours ahead of them, moving in the same
path, that there were treacherous iceburgs and that they ought to slow down and keep watch. But they
moved ahead into the darkness not listening to the voices speaking to them. Oh,
they moved unafraid foolishly, and found what rightly describe by the warnings. It was a decision that was
destructive to so many.
It's in this message that
God has been speaking to me this week, that when I am afraid and unwilling to
step into His goodness and allow His breath to fill me, then consequence befall
me and others.
It's interesting to me
when God wants to communicate, he repeats the message. Just tonight, as I read
through the passage of my Bible-In-One-Year app on my phone, they featured the
book of Jonah. Talk about dealing with what scares me. Jonah decided one type
of darkness (Nineveh) wasn’t good enough and he choose a different way straight
into a storm and the stomach of a whale. His choice brought consequences to
himself and others on board that ship and delayed the promise of God to the Ninevites.
God had an animal large enough to swallow a human and keep him alive—the same
ones that make me cringe— as a tool waiting in the deep for his exact purpose.
Maybe you’re like me,
though you can step into the ocean with ease, your “things of the deep” are
keeping you from what is available to you in God’s power. Perhaps you have
different issues like a job situation, a family struggle, emotional distress or
any number of things that feel out of your control. From Genesis 1 we know that
these things are near to God and he can call them good. It’s time to release the
fear and remember God is hovering, ready to bring light into your dark deep
places.
______
As a side note:
I can think of at least three people who will read this and will now, even more fervently insist I go swimming in the ocean again. I'm not hopping on a plane to do it, but one day I will. Promise.
