Beloved, I love a good cold plunge, and while it wasn’t exactly sub-zero temperature, I got a free one at Cloudland Canyon on Monday. The family hiked down to Cherokee Falls and to my great delight, there was actually a substantial amount of water crashing down into the pool below. For the entire summer it had been little more than a trickle, but now there was something almost worthy of being called a waterfall, and it was gorgeous. I swam in the water below, staring up at the falls as the sun shone through the trees. What a delight! That is, until a woman started yelling at me to move. She was trying to get a video of the falls on her iPhone, and she didn’t want some scrawny bald guy ruining her picture. I imagine she was recording the beauty for all her friends to behold on social media, probably with some beaming, happy-face emojis. It struck me that the only reason for this picture-worthy sight was because of Hurricane Helene. Hop in the car and drive a few hours east, and you will find that the same storm refreshing me had ravaged others. The same waters that led this woman to publish to the world the wonder she had found had led others to publish to the world the wreckage and woe they had found. How could the same storm result in smiling emojis and weeping emojis? How could the water that gave me a foretaste of paradise, give others a foretaste of perdition? Truly, it is a mystery, and I don’t claim to fully understand it. But it is a reminder that we live in a world that is simultaneously under divine judgment and divine common grace. It is a world that serves up constant reminders of the inescapable consequences of our rebellion, and it is a world that simultaneously serves up constant reminders of God’s inexplicable patience and kindness toward image-bearing rebels. As I write this, I have the garage door opened and my standup desk facing out at the trees as I enjoy the gentle breeze and the warm rays of the sun. And in the self-same moment on the coast of Florida, wind is decimating trees and houses in the dark, wet, sun-less fury we call Hurricane Milton. God is Lord of both. God’s glory is revealed in both. And both are created analogies pointing us to the eternal states of heaven and hell, a paradise and a perdition that will issue forth from the self-same event when our Lord comes again to consummate history. For just as the same floodwaters resulted in judgment and salvation in the days of Noah, so too with Christ’s cataclysmic return. What a mystery, and what a reason to cast the whole weight of our souls upon Him who is Lord of all. Yours in Christ, Pastor Nick |