My husband's alarm clock has "ocean waves" as a possible choice to wake up to;
there are meditation CD's available with the same sound.
Somehow the sound of that powerful water can relax us, and remove for a while, the sense of anxiety and stress we carry.

John's description of the glorified Christ in Revelation included a description of that heavenly voice - like the sound of many waters.
Like the pounding surf of an untamed ocean, or the intense volume of a waterfall, the voice was staggering in its power.
Yet the first words John heard from this magnificent voice were: "Do not be afraid."
Within the power of Christ's glory was the merciful understanding of the human condition - and the glorified Christ, with hair as white
as wool, and a face that shone like a blazing sun,
spoke words of comfort to the prostrated disciple before him. "Do not be afraid."
The power, and the comfort, of the ocean waves was in his voice.
And like John's own experience of comfort from the Holy One, the disciples discovered that the fears that kept them locked in an upper room were no match for the power of the risen Christ.
The locks on the doors did not keep him out, and when the disciples beheld him with fear in their eyes, the first thing he said was, "Peace be with you."
There was no chiding then for running away on that fateful night when Jesus was crucified;
there was only the risen Jesus, more than willing to show them his scars, drawing them again into intimacy with himself, as he breathed upon them the holy breath of God.
But one disciple was not there.
Thomas, for some reason was not in the upper room when Jesus came to call.
Whether he was out on an errand, or whether he had chosen to leave the city in his despair over Jesus' death, we don't know. But when the disciples saw him again, they told him of the miraculous visit.
Thomas had had enough of miracles - of hope, of expectation. Enough. No more. Not unless I see those marks you say you saw. Then and only then will I believe.
And on the next Sunday, Jesus once again came with a message of peace and comfort, this time for Thomas, who was, after all, only asking to see the same signs as the rest of the disciples…
And when he saw…and believed, he understood that here standing before him was the One that John would one day see on Patmos -
- the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end of all things - his Lord, and his God.
In the prostrated figure of John on Patmos;
And in the confession of Thomas, is the understanding that this Jesus, raised from the dead and glorified at the right hand of God, has come in power and authority.
This same Jesus, who was crucified is the one who deserves our worship and our allegiance. He has overcome for all time the power of death and given us the pledge of new life.
Like the ebb and flow of the ocean waves his powerful voice comes to us and defies the locks on the secret chambers of our hearts.
There, Christ is ready and willing to share his wounds with us, drawing us into deeper intimacy with him, sharing with us the holy breath of God.
Those time of intimacy come to us through prayer and the sacraments, especially in that intimate moment of receiving for ourselves
Christ's body and blood.
And with that intimacy comes the comfort of the Holy Spirit - peace, and strength.
But that is not the end of the story. For after receiving the comfort of the Holy Spirit, the disciples were called to do the work of Christ in the world.
And we, have been called by that heavenly voice to do the same.
Sometimes that voice comes gently with words of comfort, soft waves on a quiet shore.
But sometimes it comes to us with the force of the Pacific, rocking our well-ordered world and calling us to get moving to do a work he is asking us to do.
Back and forth the ebb and flow challenges us to take a step forward toward growth in our relationship to God - understanding that our Lord and our God has called us for a purpose.
One purpose to which we have all been called involves a word that most of us as Episcopalians find uncomfortable - that word is Evangelism.
We are, indeed called to be evangelists in this world.
But lets unpack that word a bit.
Let's disassociate it with any images we may have that cause us consternation, and look at what the word really means.
Evangelism comes from a Greek word, which means to tell good tidings, particularly the tidings of the Gospel message.
That's all.
How we tell those tidings are left to our own interpretation.
What if each one of us was to tell one person, just one person, what it is about this community of St. James that keeps us coming back?
What if we were to tell them about the Eucharist, the 18 ministry communities, about the fellowship at our amazing coffee hour, and ultimately, about our own experience of the consolation of the Holy Spirit in times of trouble?
Not everyone we tell will be interested.
But on the other hand, we never know when God might lead us to another Thomas - to one who has had enough of miracles, of hope - of expectation - who is discouraged and needing a touch of the divine.
And in your telling the good news, they might find, like Thomas, that the wounds of Christ are more than enough to speak peace to their souls.