The sand was warm beneath my wet bare feet, the grit settling between my toes with each forward step. The mud attempted to contend with the texture, offering the squish and slime to balance it all out as my walk in turn created more of the combination.
My body was tired and sore with my flesh a little cold from the breeze of the coming rains looming in the distant sky above us. Our squad trudged on, as one by one we hopped out of rafts to the safety of land, bypassing the top part of a rapid only known to us as “The Bad Place,” and continuing on until it was safe to drift away again.
I didn’t know what was ahead of me, but I could hear it. The roar and rush of the water continued on as a steady beat, a constant reminder of the presence it held and a warning to those who would endeavor to enter back into the white waters of the Nile.
So my ears carried me on as we walked in the direction of what we heard, my mind expecting one thing and my heart completely unprepared for the sight just around the corner and through the scattered trees blocking the full view.
But then my feet stopped in the clearing and I began to see.
It was a reverence that I had never known and it was a fear that was entirely new. I didn’t just see the river and the power of rushing water that raged on before me but I instead caught a glimpse of the Creator of the Universe, the Counter of every hair on my head and the very One who gives me the breath inside my lungs.
The fear of the Lord struck me in a whole new light.
I wasn’t only taken aback by the sheer force of the water and the immediate realization that I must be crazy to willingly jump into something that could in turn steal my life, but I was struck with the magnificent beauty of the sight before me; I was in awe of the water before me that held so much potential, power and authority.
And I stood in reverence of the God who spoke it into being.