Riding Waves

This afternoon I spent an hour in the Pacific ocean jumping in the breakers. It was a great deal of fun, although I had to quit after a particularly large wave tossed me like a rag doll and filled my suit with sand and my sinuses with saltwater.

I had a great time, and will probably do it again tomorrow (although maybe with a boogie board next time), but the power of that last wave has had me reflecting on how the ocean is often used as a metaphor for suffering.

"When peace like a river attendeth my way;
when sorrows like sea billows roll..."

"The waves of life have towered high;
I've been disfigured by the storm..."

I'm more of a mountain girl than a beach girl (and to be honest, much more of an indoor girl than either), and so the ocean has always intimidated me. But after one afternoon, I have an even better understanding of how the ocean is like life.

Like the circumstances of my life, I have no control whatsoever over the waves. They may be a gentle roll that fills me with delight as I bob up and down, or, before I know it, they may tower high and come crashing down on me with suffocating force.

The sorrows of life often seem relentless. Here too, the ocean illustrates: the waves keep coming, one after the other. When one knocks you down, sometimes the next comes before you have a chance to get your bearings again.

Sometimes you can't make it on your own. The only reason I got so adventurous today is that the whole time I was holding the hand of someone much stronger and more experienced than myself. He held me up as the current tried to suck me down; he helped me get my bearings after each wave. The scariest thing about the last wave was how it tore me from his grasp and tossed me in the sea alone. God is so good to give us a community of believers to help support and encourage us through suffering--he didn't design us to make it on our own. But even when the storms of life seem to pull us from all our human support, they cannot snatch us from the grasp of his hand. We are tossed and turned, but held fast always.

The ocean is also exhausting...just like life. :)