Inky black was the ocean one day, breaking into white froth
as the huge ship churned through the water. Black and white: the colours of the
evening’s formal ball.
But no, not just black and white. As I wrote yesterday, as
the black gave way to white, or settled back again to grey-black, there was a
moment of vibrant, breath-taking colour. A swirl of aquamarine, a shade not
seen if the water is unfurrowed. Shades of colour revealed as the blackness is
fracked.
Now the layered canopy of cloud overhead begins to break,
slits of blue sky revealed beyond. All day the sky has remained grey, a thick mosaic
of light and dark, but now, near dusk, the lighter shades are pulling apart,
unravelling like a loose-knit afgan, and hinting at more. More colour in this
world than observed at first sight.
More colour in the heights. More colour in the depths. A
beauty – a delicate, pastel beauty. The sea stretches to the grey horizon, dark
grey lining against lighter grey.
The loose-knit weave of cloud continues to tear, but not
disappear. It is not dissolving before my eyes, leaving behind a tropical scarf
of pale blue. Instead, as it pulls apart in one place, it seems to grow denser
in another. Denser, darker, reflecting back the darkness of the sea.
No fish break the surface. It appears as arid and devoid of
life as a Saharan landscape. But like a Saharan landscape, not all is revealed,
not all is apparent. What lies beneath? Beneath this massive conveyance
ploughing through the matrix of water.
Jesus said he came to bring us fullness of life. As I stood
on the balcony watching the vast ocean beyond, songs of praise giving glory to
God filled my head. I am so thankful for the opportunity to glimpse a part of
his creation that I hadn’t imagined seeing in my lifetime. This world is beyond
amazing. It is such a gift, how can anyone doubt the love of God?
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