I’m a sucker for a tropical vacation. I love the feeling of the sun on my skin, and the sound, the smell, the sight of the waves coming in off the water. There’s nothing like that first moment of getting close to the ocean that can overwhelm your senses. Waves crash into the sand like rhythmic music, the smell of salt burning your nose, and the sound that could make any white noise junkie sleep for days. Every time I reach the ocean it feels like the first time I have ever been there. It’s a take your breath away moment. A pure moment of complete surrender.
Standing on the shore I know that I must go in. I’m drawn to the water. I’m standing there in my bathing suit, fully slathered in sunscreen, goggles on my forehead ready for assignment and my pool noodle tucked tightly beneath each of my arms. I’m ready to jump in, but I see a storm brewing.
I see the horizon in front of me and know that the water is churning. I can feel the ocean breeze shift to a cyclone, feeling sand bite my skin. The waves crash more harshly and the white noise changes to ominous warning. And I see in the distance, rolling clouds. All the warning signs are there, there’s a storm a’coming.
I’ve been preparing for this getaway, packed bags, bought necessary supplies, and prepared to immerse myself into all my tropical vacation had in store. And here I stand on the shoreline being beat with whipping sand and crashing waves, deafened by the sound as it hits the beach, with my goggles and sunscreen and pool noodle tightly tucked under my arms. Here I stand in front of my vacation unprepared.
Today I’m standing in front of unfathomable storms as the mother of adult children. I packed my bags and carefully prepared for this for the last 20 something years, and here I stand. I’m standing with goggles around my forehead, bathing suit properly sucking in my stomach and pool noodle wedged under my arms. I can feel the evidence of sunscreen streaming down my face looking at a storm.
I know the waters are choppy. I know my goggles, my bathing suit, my waterproof sunscreen and my love for the ocean are not enough for what is in front of me. But I’ve planned, I’ve committed my life, I’ve said “no matter what.”
So, I step in. First just a foot and I am immediately taken back by the force of the wave infused with sand. I can feel the burn with every step…but I said…no matter what. I cling tighter to the noodle under my arms and take another step, this time turning my head to protect my face from the oncoming wave, but I keep going. Wave after wave the water crashes over me, relentless in strength. I cling to the noodle and shield my face. The water takes my breath away, sometimes pulling me under. I scramble from underwater, gasping for air, swimming to the surface never letting go of the pool noodle wedged under my arms.
The waves crash over me, and at times pull me under, but each time I float to the surface. While I sit in circumstances I never imagined, I know that God is there. He’s wedged under my arms, bringing me back to the surface each and every time I go under. My circumstances are not a surprise to God, and He is faithful in helping me float, even during a storm. He’s teaching me and refining me, and helping me learn what waves to jump into, and when to stand on the beach with a towel. So, I stand, sometimes towel in hand, clinging to the noodle supporting me. And I know that God loves my kids more than me and ultimately, He’s got this. So, I close my eyes and embrace, the waves crashing into the sand like rhythmic music, the smell of salt burning your nose, and the sound that could make any white noise junkie sleep for days.
