So tell me what happens when the waves break and you’re surrounded
Currently the smooth sounds of Andrew Belle have been the music continually playing and painting a soundscape of this season of life. Today was no exception.
I tiptoed my way, a little wide-eyed and cautiously, into the vastness that is the ocean. It has been since the days of an eight year old running around caught up in the magic of Disney World phase, since these fingertips have last brushed the surface of the ocean waters. Images playing back of a little girl with a thick brown ponytail, holding it back from the chaos of the waves, clad in a favorite bright pink ruffled Blue’s Clues suit. So unaware of the journey that would pull her in every direction laying ahead. Of the dreams filling up her heart, the failures and the victories that both overcome all other emotions.
Excitement was barely contained, even as I approached slowly, unsure of the wild nature of the waves, the sudden surprises, the unknown depths. The dance began.
One step further in, further away from shore. A half step back and rapid motion to disguise the numbing chill.
Lost in the oceanic current, pulled in with the waves until hair is all saltwater tangles of fire red complexities like the life events that have unfolded. And you brace against your own skin saturated and soaked through, breeze pushing against all other resistance. Watching the waves crash and overwhelm, surrounding and breaking down in sudden force.
Changing rhythms. As I walk the shore, I am reminded. It is possible to be new. To let the tide line change you and the waves break you. To be reminded how impossibly small you are and yet how great a chance to live out your story you’ve been given.
Tired eyes, so weary of the sights they take in, wishin the colors didn’t keep streaming at you. Yet waking up to the wonder still, forcing stage curtain heavy lids to open. Still hopeful that there’s an effervescent, sparkling mystery rising and falling with every wave.
The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears, or the sea. – Isak Dinesen
Knee deep. Waves crashing. Collective thundering rush. Building up and you climb into its swelling flow. Up and down saltwater assimilating into your veins. Ocean surreal in its majestic state. Always changing and transforming in layered beauty, old upon new, enriching the other and adding color.
Some prayers are best said – more genuine when heart-blood-stained, from treading these waters. In the light of this open canvas where sun rays refuse to give up. The sounds and view combine to form a cure, pulling the depression and black darkness that terrified, haunted, and threatened to take you under.
Rows of palm trees form a protective circle, a barrier to keep the harshness of the fast-paced, can’t-catch-a-breath lifestyle out. Forced to stop running in circles. To acknowledge the pain cutting into your veins, tangling up all else even life itself, surging at every new situation. Acknowledge the change, the perspective, the possibilities that expand and spin our from every direction, encounter, and adventure of this thing called living. And you can’t help but smile.
And you know two things.
You must love others and you must create + write.
Inhale. Exhale. Ex Nihilo. Out of nothing.
Shivers dancing in anticipation. Ocean waters cycling in and out like the tideline that has existed long before you were a reality in the picture of space and time. And yet the One who calls them into this same rhythm by a symphony of words is writing all of history, speaking it alive, knows you as beloved, and touches every intricate detail of your own narrative. It may be too much for your heart to handle now, but He is still good.
For he wounds, but he binds up; he shatters, but his hands heal. Job 5.18 | You alone are sufficient.
So let the waves break and hear him saying over and over again : I surround you, I’ll never leave my beloved I found you,