Last Tuesday afternoon my husband and I got on a plane to Atlanta to spend Thanksgiving with his family.  Shocking as it may seem, it was still light outside when we took off (despite our ever shorter days here in the North Pole). 

Sitting next to the window, I watched as our plane ascended from the runway.  If you’ve ever flown in or out of Boston, you know that the airport is right at the water’s edge.  Landings and takeoffs give you a picture of the ocean below.  For some, it can be a little nervewracking.

As I looked outside, I noticed streaks of white foam in the ocean growing smaller and smaller. 

And it occurred to me that perspective is everything. 

When the waves are crashing over us, they seem overwhelming.  We fear we will drown from their sheer force. Or just from the fear that they bring.

But from a higher plane, those waves just seem like minor blemishes on the surface of a vast ocean.  In fact, it’s hard to see their effect at all. 

They don’t seem quite as powerful as they did when we were standing on the shore.

“Should you not fear me?” declares the Lord.  “Should you not tremble in my presence?  I made the sand a boundary for the sea, an everlasting barrier it cannot cross.  The waves may roll, but they cannot prevail; they may roar, but they cannot cross it.”  (Jeremiah 5:22)