Signs of Mighty Power

   This summer, Al and I joined several friends for a week in the Olympic National Park, starting at Seattle and making a loop clock-wise around the Olympic Peninsula. The focus of the trip was hiking and sight-seeing in the park.

     Our original backpacking group formed in 1981 and has been taking annual summer outings ever since. It has grown over the years, now spanning three generations, taking on the feeling of family. We have had many wonderful experiences together and always look forward to these ‘group’ trips.

     Visiting Rialto beach on the Pacific coast, I was struck by the sheer power of the ocean which was demonstrated in so many different ways: the polished and tumbled agates on the beach; smooth sun-bleached driftwood scattered over the sand; and massive logs from evergreen trees which had been knocked down by heavy storms, washed into the two nearby rivers and then pitched up onto the beach.

      A man who had worked for the United States Geologic Survey told us that the landscape of that particular area was always changing. If we were to return next year, those particular logs would have moved north to the next beach and the parking lot would be jammed full of a tangled mess of new ones. Big equipment would have to be used to clear it out. It was very impressive.

     The high tide was another aspect of the power of the ocean. It erased the sand creations two teenagers had made as they stood by helplessly, watching each set of waves lap up more of the beach, tumbling the pebbles as it raced back out.

    Finally, there were the chunks of land which were once part of the mainland, but which had become cut off through centuries of storms, forming isolated tree covered “sea-stacks.” We left when the surf had completely covered the beach where we had walked just a few hours before, planning on returning later to view the sunset.

    Even though it had been misty and overcast all day, the sun finally came out around dinner time. So we cleaned up the dishes and then made our way back to Rialto beach.   One of the younger members of the group played the guitar spontaneously while watching the sun drop beneath the horizon.

    “I have a song, ‘Praise God,’ in my head. You respond with the words ‘Praise God’ after you hear me say them.” And so we accompanied him as he poured out his heart through the guitar, singing and worshiping God, soaking in the beauty of His creation.

     The ocean seemed calm and still, hiding its latent power, while a brilliant golden dome balanced on top of the thin line between sea and sky. Would there be a green flash? Most of the group had seen it before—the flash of green light which is caused by the refracting of the last rays of sunlight on the water. That event didn’t take place; but we lingered anyway, watching the sky turn various shades of pink. 

    “Praise God, praise God, praise God...” The words still rang in my heart as we caravanned back to the rented lodge. Just think—the same power that creates sea stacks, takes down huge trees and tumbles the stones, God’s mighty power, is available to us daily as we put our trust in Him. Praise God!

“The seas have lifted up, O Lord, the seas have lifted up their voice; the seas have lifted up their pounding waves. Mightier than the thunder of the great waters, mightier than the breakers of the sea—the Lord on high is mighty.” Psalm 93:3-4 NIV