I see the wave coming toward me. It swells from afar, the whitecap glistening in the sparkly sun. At such a distance, it looks small. No problem. No threat. I try to ignore it, but it continues in it's way.
Photo by Samara Doole on Unsplash
As it draws closer, I feel that familiar fear within. I realize it's towering height. The foamy crest rises and breaks, another close behind. No time in between the waves. No time to catch my breath.
Suddenly I cannot outrun the wave. It crashes into my side before I can brace myself. It knocks me flat as the rushing water bathes me, the chill like thousands of stabbing knives. Reminding me with each piercing jab. It makes no sense to fight at this point. I just have to let the wave run it's course and eventually it will subside. I will wash up onto the shore, exhausted from the fight, but not defeated.
After the receding of the wave, a peace and calm comes over me. A reminder. A reassurance. No shame, just love and care.
You are mine. You are safe.
The waves will continue with the ebbing of each tide, as long as the moon revolves around this rock we call home. My job isn't to outrun the waves. That's pointless. But rather to be comforted in the one who allows them.