Our long weekend on Long Island was a treasure to be savored for a long while. One had only to use the senses of sight and sound to detect the presence and magnificence of God.
During my talk at Middle Island Presbyterian Church, I could see and hear that the congregation was paying close attention to my words – always a good thing when one is speaking to a group - and that many were visibly moved. But it was not my story that touched the congregation. Rather it was the story that God gave to my family and me. Relentless experiences that removed our dross and then built us into people whom God can use. How like God to use one person’s misery to touch and move the heart of another.
After the church service, my husband and I drove out to Montauk, the very tip of Long Island. I have to say that although the quaint towns that we drove through on the way to Montauk are a vision of architectural loveliness, there is nothing like the deafening and furiously pounding surf along the coast to catch one’s attention.
It’s there in the greenish-gray waves that ceaselessly slam into the small beaches that I see God. Large, powerful waves that have pounded packed sand for millenniums in a carefully orchestrated rhythm. Who but God could create such a wonder. This is a statement, not a question.
The surf is a reminder that God also created me. No matter how small and insignificant I may feel at times, I was created by the same God who made the vast oceans. And just as he carefully oversees the uncountable, never-ending waves, he constantly watches over me, guiding my path and showing me His magnificent glory.
TO GOD BE THE GLORY
Cynthia Howerter © 2011Read More