"Whatever is under the whole heavens is mine"

a small human next to one of the many, many things that are bigger than he is

In Job 41, the Lord spends a long time describing “Leviathan” - some great creature that sounds (let’s be honest) rather like a dragon.

Whatever leviathan was, it was mighty and fearsome and scary. Think of any encounters you might have had with wildlife that scared you, or left you in awe. Think of the first time you saw a polar bear up close, and of how glad you were that there was thick, unbreakable glass between you and it.

Think of that time you stood at the edge of a canyon, and pondered the long, long fall to the bottom, and the great, ancient wings of granite that rose up above the drop: impervious, invulnerable, utterly beyond your ability to climb, to destroy, to conquer.

Think of that time the ground shook under your feet as the local fault slipped just a little further under the continental plate, as the walls of your home cracked and you threw yourself on top of you children, desperate that they would make it through the cataclysm unhurt.

Think of that time you cowered in the basement as the eerie noises of the strong winds rattled the house above you. Tornadoes might be fascinating to watch from a distance, but do you dare even stand above ground when one is actually roaring through your neighborhood?

Think even of the creeping horror you feel crawling across your skin when you recognize, too late, the shape of the leaves you have been brushing past on the hiking trail. Of the silly shriek you give even at an arachnid one one-thousandth of your size—less than that, even.

Of how you will not approach a strange dog that growls at you, let alone seek out the bears or the mountain lions in the hills behind your house.

For all our skill and technology and invention, we are still dumbstruck before the power of nature. We are crushed when gravity throws us down, we are dismembered when we are foolish in front of God’s fiercer creatures, we are small before the glory of the mountains and oceans and deserts.

And these, God reminds Job, all of these, are but God’s works. 

They are His works. They are not even yet God Himself.

Look at these wonders. Imagine the mind that could conceive them. Imagine the hand that could bring them into being. Bring them into being out of nothing.

Think on these things.

And then put your own hand over your own mouth, and be silent. Be in awe. Be in worship.

Be astonished.



Peace of Christ to you,
Jessica Snell