Waves don't hesitate. Waves don't stop for anything.
Waves crescendo. Waves collapse. I run straight towards them.
La Jolla, California 2018
The ocean pushes right into me and I fall down. On my knees the undertow drags me into deeper waters, sand scraping my skin. A wave slaps my back so hard it stings.
Underwater, under sight, all the water is cold and alive. I fly in the wave toward shore. The water empties me in the shallows like drift wood.
Tiny V's are scattered across the smooth wet sand from little shells. Birds like twigs and sandpaper prance in between them and leave tracks where waves come and wash them away.
Temporary moments are polished clean by the ocean. There, then gone.
In the midst of a disaster in life, we expect to be swallowed by a fish perhaps, like Jonah.
Sometimes you just imagine that next storm to come.
A whale swallowing you out of a storm into a new storm.
Instead, often we are not swallowed by something else.
Instead, we are treading for hours in the water we're in because we have no choice.
Instead, you have to learn how to swim where you are.
How to let your body ricochet through the current you can't control, trusting you're not alone.
How to call for help when you feel terror rippling backwards because you feel another wave is about to peel over you.
How to let your weakness be known so grace comes crashing in.
How to let his love hold you.
God led his people through the sea and they ran and walked on dry land. If you are familiar enough with that story in the Bible, it's possible after awhile to barely notice the awe. And then if you try to picture that when you're at the brink of the sea itself in real life, it's ridiculous to imagine walking through the water on dry land. It's crazy to picture waves defying forces and moving to make a way by God's command. Even the most powerful people in the world don't know power like that.
Maybe we don't expect to see God do something good for us right where we are. (I wonder if any of the people standing and watching the sea before it was parted expected to see God do what he did.) I want to believe in the truth of God, not in my perception of God. I doubt a giant fish will ever swallow me or that I will walk on dry land through the sea, but I don't want to give in to doubting God.
The sea ran back to its normal course, but God's power did not retreat.
God does not retreat. He REVISITS our lives. Again, again, again, Wave, after wave, after wave.
Wind and storm, He loves me.
Dry land and room to breathe, He loves me.
La Jolla, California 2018
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