"When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him?" -- Psalm 8:3-4

Do you ever feel really small when considering the vastness of God's creation?  Sometimes, it's easy to feel distant from God, but I remember a night when in my infinite smallness in the scope of the Universe, I felt amazingly close.

At an age before career, marriage and children… at a time when I was too old to stay at my parents’ home anymore, but too broke to move out, I was fortunate enough to be plugged into a community of like-situated college students through a young adult group at my church.  We enjoyed trips together and a number of outings.  One was a trip to Mustang Island,-- a stretch of the Texas Coast north of Corpus Christi just south of Port Aransas.  I remember how I was so looking forward to swimming in the ocean.  My body was young, and I was strong.  This was a time before any spare tire around my waist existed, before my bones ached in any way, and when I could run for relatively long distances without being winded. 

We left San Antonio late on a Friday and made the 3 ½ hour trip.  We arrived at dusk, and after checking in, we decided to go down to the beach.  It was well after dark and the group didn’t want to go swimming… I’ve heard you can’t be “brave or smart” until at least the age of 25.  I wasn’t even close.  As a result of the combination of immeasurably bad judgment and my love for water, I decided to get wet.  No one else wanted to, but  I didn’t care.  I had my bathing suit on, and I was at the beach.  I had to at least feel the water.  And so I, with some others, walked into the warm water up to our knees.  It was so dark that you could barely see the whitecaps on the waves.  The moon wasn’t out, but the sky was clear, so it was as if you could see every star in the sky.  Some of us ended up swimming, but not for long.  Most didn’t feel comfortable without sunlight.  As the group headed back to shore after a very brief swim, I held back and stayed in the water.  It felt good— I don’t know what the temperature was, but the air was comfortably warm.  The water was as warm as the air—so close, you’d think they were exactly the same.  I swam just beyond the cut where the waves were breaking, and just floated.  I lay there on my back, and looked up at the sky and experienced one of the most profound moments in my life.  The stars were so bright that I could see the Milky Way stretched across the sky.  It went from horizon to horizon, and it was the only thing that indicated to me where the sky ended and the water began. 

I don’t know how long I just floated there, looking up at the sky, amazed at the vastness of it all.  There were moments where I would almost forget about the water, as the temperature didn’t vary much, if at all, from the air.  It was as if I were actually floating in space.  I wasn’t on drugs or anything else that would alter my perceptions.  I was sober, awake, and for a moment, felt as though I were one with the universe. My body felt weightless and since my ears were beneath the water, the only thing I could hear was my slow and steady breathing.  The experience was fleeting and lasted for just a few minutes, as friends began to worry about me because they couldn’t find me.  Their calls brought me back and I swam into shore.  I’m glad I encountered no sharks, sting rays, or jellyfish that night.  I think if I had, the memory wouldn’t be so pleasurable.  Instead, it stays with me as one of the greatest experiences I’ve ever had.  It will probably never be repeated though, as I’ve grown up and now am filled with limiting caution and numbing good sense.

Amazing to think that God is even bigger than the Universe.  And yet he calls us by name.

Readings:  1 Chronicles 9:1-10:14; Acts 27:21-44; Psalm 8:1-9; Proverbs 18:23-24