Miles at sea, I hear of your fury. Walls of liquid anger envelop all signs of life, taking hostages, suffocating life. Whitecaps punctuate a riot of clashing forces. Winds of change bear down, crushing the weak and vulnerable, tossing weights of destruction. The announcement of your presence roars through, shattering illusions of safety and peace. Your direction, who can know? Your strength, who can withstand?
In Your tabernacle, I hear of Your holiness. Walls of separation fall like torn curtains as Your Son of Love reaches out with arms of grace and mercy. Winds of change whisper in the stillness as though a spirit like a shepherd beckons onward. The rod of Your direction bears the tale of safety ahead. Your Presence is altogether terrifying and altogether comforting. The depth of Your Love, who can know? Your forgiveness, who can deplete?