The big Lake is so vast, watching it for a week from the back deck gives barely a peek. Never the same yet always the same, the big Lake lends only a glance of its glory and mere imaginary wonder of its depth, heaving what seems to be entire tree on the morning shore from wherever, kept secret by the wind.

But we need not to know what because we see what is and we believe it. Consuming more of what may leave us without properly seeing what is and believing it.

So, too, God’s love.