I’ve watched it many times. Always off the east coast, always over the Atlantic. The orange orb announced by the yellow light that precedes it. The light that dances off the waves and illuminates all that sleeps, heralds the day, embraces me.
The horizon that serves as a stage for this beautiful unfolding of a day sits constant and steady. It’s the place my eyes cannot see past, the line that defines my space. It holds my gaze and allows thoughts to wander, birth dreams. It speaks security and possibility, that place where sky and water touch.
The earth was never flat, ever. Still, once those living on it believed it was. They saw a horizon just as we do. But instead of seeing a point at which new vision unfolds, they saw a definite end, a limit, a stop sign. Embracing their flawed understanding of the world, they stayed away from the edge, stayed close to home, stayed content with the familiar, the observable, the safe.
From their place on the coast, they saw nothing past the line, the line where sky meets sea, and concluded there was nothing to see – believed there was nothing more than their created minds already contained. Created beings often come to wrong conclusions about other created things. Wrong conclusions affect thinking, and decisions, and actions; right conclusions do to.
But if created beings struggle with comprehending creation, how do they comprehend the Creator? My head bows and my heart wonders, how could my skewed understanding of God impact my thinking, decisions, and actions? Am I staying away from the edge, staying close to home, staying close to the familiar and the observable, playing it safe?
An attribute of God that causes a created mind to struggle in the grasping of it is his infinitude. God is infinite, but my finite mind can only travel to the horizon of my finite existence. I cannot see beyond it, and I strain to imagine what might exist beyond my limited existence, my current perspective. The words of Novatian ring true, “For God is greater than mind itself. His greatness cannot be conceived. Nay, could we conceive of his greatness he would be less than the human mind which could form the conception.”
And I wonder like those of long ago, those standing on the coast gazing at the horizon convinced it’s an end being told it’s just a beginning. Tozer acknowledges this struggle, “Infinitude, of course, means limitlessness, and it is obviously impossible for a limited mind to grasp the Unlimited.” So why try to grasp that which is beyond my reach?
But the Unlimited is able to impart understanding to the limited. And faith in knowing He expands beyond my horizons brings comfort, brings rest. His infinitude, his limitlessness, is our source of abundance. All that flows from his limitlessness is limitless and in this knowing faith is stirred and our spirits see glimmers of what lies beyond our limited minds.
“But, as it is written, “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him.” I Corinthians 2:9
“But Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible,but with God all things are possible.” Matthew 19:26
Again, I pause and ask, do I really believe He is infinite, does my life reflect that conviction? Am I ready to sail to my horizon, push past my line, my perceived limits, fully confident more will unfold as I reach it?
Today I shift from my limited perspective. I trust that more awaits beyond what I perceive as my horizons. I choose to rest in his abundance, in his limitlessness, in his infinitude. When the limits of creation, my limits, cause me to live small and safe and afraid, I will turn to the Unlimited God knowing that nothing, absolutely nothing, is impossible for him. And from this place of abundance, I will move forward, peaceful.
Novatian, On the Trinity, (New York: Macmillan, Co., 1919), 26.
A.W. Tozer, The Knowledge of the Holy, (New York: Harper Collins, 1961), 44.