This week I’m not going to tell you a story about a sport that you don’t play (or that I don’t play), so we don’t have to worry about not knowing the rules.
Instead, I invite you to use your imagination. That’s something all of us can do.
Imagine the ocean, the seas of this planet, as if it were a person: someone who could think, someone who could feel, and someone who could talk.
Imagine the ocean rising up all around the earth as the skies poured with rain for years and years and years.
Imagine the ocean flexing its currents as they started to move about.
Imagine the ocean, as its surface climbed higher and higher above the sea floor, wondering aloud if would cover all the earth.
Imagine God looking over it all, and saying, “No. I think not. There won’t be quite so much water for you, Ocean. There will be dry land in the world.
“Even on the highest peaks, Ocean, there can be water.
“Even on those highest peaks, Ocean, water will fall in rain or snow. In fact, the highest summits of Earth will always wear a crown of snow.
“Above those highest peaks, Ocean, clouds may float: your water, suspended in mid-air, raining down from time to time to return to you again.”
And so, to this day, the Ocean drinks in the rain and snow that falls above land or sea. And to this day, the Ocean grumbles at the shores, constantly reshaping and reforming the boundaries of the land, hoping, perhaps, to one day cover all the globe.
And to this day, slowly but surely, land still rises higher in places, pushed from below by currents of rock.
And to this day, in other places the currents of rock run down the mountainsides, where they may reach the ocean and win new land from the sea amidst a scarlet glow, and the water hisses and fumes.
And to this day, God looks upon land and ocean, and smiles.