It comes in waves, doesn’t it? Our walk along the beach with God. Sometimes sandy, sometimes rocky, surging high tides that practically bowl us over. Everything about our faith practices – prayer, worship, working, observing Sabbath rest – is as unpredictable yet constant as waves breaking on the shore.

lf I’m ever more than a two hours’ drive from either water or mountains, I feel spiritually adrift and lost. I grew up only three miles from the Gulf. Sunday afternoons were our Sabbath bliss and tranquility; although I much preferred a rougher surf, I also grew to appreciate just walking along the shore. A good hearty mountain trail hike has the same effect. We need those retreat times, whether we’re a city mouse or a country mouse.

I think our faith flows better, like a mountain stream if you will, when we are caught up in the sheer goodness of God instead of the truth. It makes sense when we feel faith rather than attempt to explain it. We seldom need a wave to knock us down in order to get our attention, but once in a while coping with said wave can be exhilarating. It’s more about the ebb and flow of the journey than the lightning bolt that chases you back to the car.

We don’t have to “get it right”. Balance is always a dance, a side-step in progress. Walk with the Savior, the Rabbi, our truest friend. You might end up in limbo, wandering, stumbling, a little lost, or with a swimsuit full of sand from the pounding surf. (maybe you’ll never want to go the oceanfront again after trying to “unsee” that image!). Our Lord understands, and with a love so unconditional and perfect that loves you as if you were the only person in the universe to love, picks us up when the waves of life beat us down. The coastline seems to continue on indefinitely, and the sea is infinitely wide – all part of God’s masterful work of creation.

You are the crown jewel.

Pastor Art