Rachel Whisman

My gaze stretches upward in astoundment at the never-ending trees. To my left, I hear my friend utter, “Not normal,” as we try to take in the vastness of the redwoods. Hundreds of years artifacted in this moment, my finitude unable to comprehend the work of God before us. 

“Let all the earth fear the Lord; let all the inhabitants of the world stand in awe of Him!” Psalm 33:8

The sharp bite of ice-cold water cascades over my feet as I walk along the coast. Sharp and jagged cliffs stand fixed behind me with rocks jetting out begging to be climbed, and I accept. Sitting and staring on top, the Golden Gate Bridge is before me. One, an invention of God, and the other through man. Both with craftsmanship that points to the creator, “Not normal” reels in my thoughts.

“The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.” Psalm 18:2 

Vibrant hues and sweet new smells surround me in a garden of my dreams. From one variation to the next, my mind is captivated by the sheer creativity of all these plants are. As I walk through town, flowers thrive in the cracks on the sidewalk, on the trellis of storefronts, and on the coast as we hike. This amount of beauty in one area stuns me. “Not normal” rises to the surface as I contemplate the elegance and loveliness of it all. 

“For he spoke and it came to be; he commanded, and it stood firm.” Psalm 33:9 

Coming back from traveling, I settled into Church. The chords are struck, and with hymn in hand, voices join in unison. Looking around, there is beauty in the progression of the keys, stammerings at time with the verses, but hearts that are tuned to praise the Lord. “Not normal” finds its residence again as it settles sweetly in my heart. In time to come, the trees of the redwoods will fall, the flowers will wither and fade, but His word and his bride, the church, will stand forever. “Who is like the Lord our God, who is seated on high, who looks far down on the heavens and the earth? (Psalm 113:5). This God is ours, and we are His. The echo of “Not normal” stirs again and finds rest in the reality of it and the grace that we have been given to live in it.