93:4 More than the sounds of many waters,
Than the mighty breakers of the sea,
The Lord on high is mighty.
My wife and I have an alarm clock in our bedroom that also plays sound effects. I can awaken or go to sleep to a roaring waterfall, a soothing rain, the chirping of birds, crickets on a summer night, rolling thunder, the solitude of a rain forest, or my personal favorite, the rhythmic pounding of waves against the shore. I like the waves for several reasons. The hypnotic cadence is so unique. Nothing compares to the steady, predictable tempo—splashhh, wait, splashhh, wait, splashhh wait. I can close my eyes right now and imagine the white foam pounding the rocks, such as I saw recently in Mexico. Waves are like the pulse of the ocean, steadily pumping life out and in; back and forth.
The sound of the waves also reminds me of my own mortality. The waves have been coming in and going out for thousands of years, just as they are now. They were here before me, and they’ll be doing their job long after I’m gone. But for now they and I share a place in God’s creation. When my pulse stops, theirs won’t miss a beat.
But as beautiful as the waves are, there’s a very dangerous element to them as well. Their power should be respected. A couple of years ago I was body-surfing in Florida. The waves were really rolling that day. My family and I were having lots of fun. Between waves I looked toward the beach with my back to the ocean. The water was only about waist-high. Then a wave broke just right across my back and shoulders. It plunged me under the water and drove me to the sandy bottom. What happened next scared me. I’d never experienced it before. I became caught in the wave and it churned my body on the bottom like a washing machine would a load of clothes. For a few seconds I couldn’t distinguish between up and down. I was completely disoriented. So I stopped fighting and struggling, and just relaxed. The wave released me and I swam to the shore.
I don’t know whether the writer of Psalm 93 ever had a similar experience, but he considered the Lord on high to have some of the same characteristics as the ocean. Could it be that since God made the ocean, He gave it some of the qualities He possesses so that we would know Him better? In some ways God is as predictable as the ocean. He’s always present, always faithful, and always does right: “Holiness befits your house, O Lord, forevermore” (verse 5). He’s timeless, existing before me and after I’m gone: “Your throne is established from of old; you are from everlasting” (verse 2).
But as beautiful and majestic and comforting as God is, His power should not be taken lightly: “The Lord has clothed and girded Himself with strength” (verse 1). He is to be respected and awed. His power is greater than the ocean’s. He holds the oceans in the palms of His strong hands. When I fight and struggle against Him, I can place myself in grave danger. My best response is to be still and know that He is God.
As much as I enjoy the artificial sound of the ocean on our alarm clock, it pales in comparison to the real thing. And even though the waves of the ocean reflect the awesome nature of God, they can’t really hold a candle to their Creator.