Water Like Thunder

There is a ferocity to Niagara Falls that surprised me a bit. You always know where the falls are even when you can’t see them because there is a constant pillar of mist hovering above it. The sound it makes is a roar. When the 1901 Pan-American Exposition was held in Buffalo, a hydroelectric plant funneled the power of the falls to light up the city.

Cave of the Winds is where we got most up close and personal with Niagara’s might. As our tour guide Dan told us at the beginning of the day, it’s not an actual cave. It used to be one, but they dynamited a dangerous overhang in the 1950s. Now it is a series of decks at the base of Bridal Veil Falls (which along with the American and Horseshoe make up Niagara).

Visitors get a chance to stand beneath and witness 60,000 gallons of water per second crashing down. There are a series of decks that allow you to get closer and closer if one wishes until you reach the Hurricane Deck where winds can reach up to near 70 mph. Our youngest fought the wind to stand closest to railing next to the falls. In that corner, you are doused by frigid water. I went in face first, but quickly had to turn my back because the water stung too much.

I know all of that may sound awful, but it wasn’t. It was actually amazing.

And because it is a phrase that I just can’t shake, I could not help but hear a reminder amidst the roar: Remember your baptism. Now when I usually think of baptism, it is a gentle reminder of God’s grace. It is a rain shower or a cup of cold water. It is life-giving. It reminds you are that you are beloved and made new. It is a beautiful image that has comforted me many a time.

Yet baptism is also something so powerful that your instinct is to shield yourself. Standing on the Hurricane Deck, it felt like I was being pressure washed. The stinging cold stripping away the dirt from my own screw-ups and the hurt that had been flung at me. It was violent water and wind, life and Spirit. And it was an awe-inspiring thing to behold.

Jesus told his followers that they are lights in a dark world. Oftentimes we think of that in terms of this little light of mine. But the truth is God’s grace can pour over us with such fierce life that it is enough to light up an entire city. Even though that can be overwhelming, that too can be a comfort. I remember a talking beaver from a beloved childhood book saying that of course Aslan is not safe, but he is good. God knows we need that goodness to pour us any way that we can.

So remember your baptism. In gentle streams and cups of cold water. In violent storms and majestic waterfalls where the water sounds like thunder. Remember that you are fiercely loved, forgiven, and made new. Remember that there is enough power in there to light up a whole city with goodness.