What does it mean to live in a world that feels like it is constantly unraveling? Chaos is not just a concept we read about in ancient texts -- it is the daily reality of broken relationships, failing health, financial pressure, and uncertainty about the future. Psalm 93 meets us right in the middle of that tension and refuses to look away from it. The psalm is constructed like a sandwich, with declarations of God's sovereign reign on both sides and the roaring, crashing floods of chaos in the middle. That structure is not accidental. It is a theological statement: the chaos is real, but it does not get the last word. We are invited to hold both truths at the same time -- the floods are loud, and Adonai is louder. The God whose name carries the weight of grace, compassion, steadfast covenantal love, and slow anger is the same God who sits enthroned above every wave that threatens to sweep us away. As we trace the imagery of water through Israel's story -- from the Red Sea to the flooded Jordan River -- we find a consistent pattern: the moment God's people stood still and trusted, the chaos stopped. The question the psalm presses into our hands is personal. When have we seen that same deliverance in our own lives? And are we telling those stories to one another the way we should?