Under the Sea

Those of you who are long-term readers of this blog know that I have a thing about words and expressions ... their origins, their meanings, their significance. I've heard the expression "like a kid in a candy shop" my whole life, and today that particular idiom applied to me in a big, huge, gigantic way. The primary definition of the expression is "to be very happy and excited about the things around you," and I was definitely that as I spent most of my afternoon at the Tennessee Aquarium nestled along the banks of the Tennessee River. It was a rainy, gloomy day in Chattanooga ... a perfect day for a long indoor activity like walking from exhibit to exhibit at the aquarium. And for today ... for today, I was very much "like a kid in a candy shop."

My first stop was at a tank filled with stingrays ... not just any stingrays, mind you ... stingrays I could reach into the water and touch. I've never touched a stingray before, and I was mesmerized by the way they flapped along effortlessly in the water, not caring at all that my fingers were brushing their skin as they swam. Next was the butterfly room ... a room filled with butterflies of all shapes, sizes and colors flying about in the large enclosure and even landing from time to time on the hands of the visitors who entered their domain. I watched otters swim faster than I've ever seen any creature swim before, and I stood transfixed by the penguins as they waddled back and forth and flopped into the water. I saw blue frogs and seahorses and snakes and trout and catfish and jellyfish ... I spent four hours seeing life from a different view ... a view from under the sea.

While all of the sea and river life was fascinating to me, I was especially captured by four large fish that swam in a gigantic tank along with a multitude of other types of fish. I snapped photo after photo after photo of the giant, graceful beasts as they passed near the thick glass that separated me from them (the glass that kept me from becoming a meal), and I got some incredible shots. But ... it wasn't until I crawled into a small glass cubby at the base of the exhibit that I was struck by the magnitude of what I was viewing. As I lay on my back and looked into the water, two of the large sharks swam right over me, slowed down, and lingered just above my head. I've never been that close to a shark before, and it was amazing ... I could see their flesh rippling as they paused, and I could see the rows of sharp teeth as they opened and closed their mouths. It ... was ... powerful ... powerful, powerful indeed.

I don't know how long I lay there looking at the enormous predators, but I do know that God spoke to me as I did. As I wondered at the tons of pressure the glass must withstand in order to protect me from the sharks, I heard God whisper, "I am the glass, child." As I recognized the danger just above me, I heard Him say, "All that separates you from being consumed by the world is me, child." The sharks eventually moved on, I wiped the tears from my eyes, climbed out of the cubby and continued my tour of the rest of the aquarium. But the sharks above me ... the sharks above me and the glass between us ... that was without question one of the most powerful experiences of my life that shouted to me once again that God is, without question, God.

"There is danger all around me, Lord ... tons and tons of water above me, filled with beasts waiting for the chance to consume me. You truly are the glass between me and those dangers, God ... thank You, Father ... thank You that You don't break or bend or bow under the pressure ... thank You, Lord, thank You."