The First Time She Heard Niagara

Maria Esperanza had seen photographs her whole life. She had watched documentaries, read travel blogs, even purchased the tickets months in advance. But nothing — absolutely nothing — prepared the thirty-four-year-old schoolteacher from Tucson for the moment she stepped onto the observation deck at Niagara Falls in July of 2019.

She heard it before she saw it. A low, ceaseless roar that vibrated through the concrete railing and into her palms. Then the mist hit her face, and when she finally looked over the edge, six million cubic feet of water per minute was plunging 167 feet into the gorge below. Maria gripped the railing and wept. Not from fear. Not from sadness. She later told her sister, "I just felt so small — and so safe at the same time. Like something enormous was reminding me that I am not in charge, and that was the most comforting thing I have ever felt."

That is exactly what the psalmist understood. Seven times in Psalm 29, David repeats, "The voice of the Lord" — over the waters, breaking the cedars, shaking the wilderness. This is not a gentle whisper. This is glory that strips forests bare and makes the deer give birth. And yet the psalm ends not with terror but with blessing: "The Lord gives strength to His people; the Lord blesses His people with peace."

The same voice that thunders is the voice that shelters. The Almighty who shakes the earth is the God who steadies your soul.