Laudate Dominum
Mal Watlington
I’m a water person. Ocean, lake, river . . . it makes no difference. I have a comforting sense of being home when I’m on or near water. The sound of water lapping against a hull, the roar of the ocean or the rush of water against rocks in a stream clear and cleanse me like nothing else. So peaceful …
At the same time, I am in awe of the power of moving water. Like God, it is something totally beyond my control. There is an intense awareness of being a small, almost insignificant part of the vast and varied world described in the Song of the Universe. Psalm 148. Like the Old Breton prayer says, “Oh God, thy sea is so great and my boat is so small.”
Oceans, lakes and broad rivers extend to, and touch the endless sky above me, including the “waters above the heavens.” I am once again enveloped by a loving God, who makes me smile without any other reason than the fact that I am. I only have to close my eyes to be once again sailing at night on the Great Lakes, with “all you shining stars” above, knowing the joy of being in just the right place and time. The wonder …
The psalmist (Haggai or Zecharia), in praising God “above the earth and the heavens” shares his joyous awe of the One who transcends all we know or can see or feel. It’s a hymn of praise, recognizing the gift He has given us, even in times when this wondrous world seems threatening. It reminds us that God is always present, never deserting us. And that we should never cease to praise him for the life he has given us, our place in his majestic universe.
