Resting in Waves

This spring break I learned how to surf.

And a lot more.

I waited for him.

    The man looking somewhere in his forties hung half outside his wetsuit, standing at the pool counter, writing my name on various sheets of paperwork. I approached the counter with a smile- my feeble attempt to break the ice of surfing with a stranger- but he was all business.
He was all about teaching me.

But here, the lesson was more than just surfing.

First, I came with nothing, and he provided me with everything.

The wet suit I would be taught in, the board I would ride on, and himself.

“Take nothing for the journey-“ Luke 9:2

Then, he was concerned about my safety. 

It seemed as if once he wrote my name on his paperwork, 

and we began our one-on-one relationship, 

he had to express to me a deeper concern for me.

It was as if he was a father, caring for every inch of his child.

Even the bottoms of my feet. 

He advised me with urgency to glide my feet along to bottom of the sea floor so, 

in the case that there were any sea shells sticking upward, 

I wouldn’t scrape my feet.

He carried all of the tools to teach me. 

And, most importantly, he was ready for me. 

When we made our way out to the beach shore, 

I found the surf board I would use laying out in the sand, 

waiting for me.

Maybe I wasn’t waiting for him. 

Maybe he was waiting for me.

He began to teach me.
Simply.

1. Pull your arms back

2. Bring your knees forward 

3. Bring one foot up, and trust that your back foot will glide in line.

4. Rest. Look up. Don’t flail your arms- be still.

5. Don’t try so hard.

I knew I would have a problem with 4 and 5; but, I think he knew that more than I.

I think, it felt like, he may have known me.

In the sand, before our wet suits even touched the water, he had me lay down on the board,

and respond to his “1! 2! 3!”

I would follow.

“Again.”

I would follow.

“Again.”

I would follow.

“Alright, let’s go girl.”

He carried my board, and we entered the water. Him right by my side.

Freezing. But there was no turning back now.

I had said yes. I had signed up.

I followed his lead, until I could feel him slow us down.

“Alright girl hop up on there.”

I did, though I didn’t quite feel ready.

My first instinct was to begin trying, trying to prepare for the wave creeping up behind me.

Breaking this thought, before I could make a move, 

behind me I heard him say,

“Cassie, don’t paddle. Just listen to my voice.”

I didn’t look back, I began to trust him.

I began to trust that in the perfect timing of his guidance,

I would hear his upbeat instructions, a soft yell of “1! 2! 3!”

Just loud enough for me to hear.

“My sheep listen to my voice, I know them, and they follow me,” John 10:27

---

Whenever I fell off,

even if it was due to my restlessness,

I would pull my hair back behind my ears,

look backwards to see him

standing out in the middle of the ocean with his hands in the air,

yelling “Nice ride! Nice ride!”

I always turned around to encouragement, grace, and a thumbs up.

After every time I ploughed through the water to meet him, 

he would have distinct critique, specific to my every movement. 

He was watching me, my every moment. 

Not to condemn me, but to gracefully help me to my feet, 

so I would look more like him.

Sound familiar?

I thought so too…

God is not watching our every move for us to come back to His bitter criticism, 

“for it is God’s kindness that leads us to repentance.” Romans 2:4

 He's watching with kindness. 

Instead, he would say…

“I need you to look up. Don’t look down and fret over what’s below you. Look up.

It will come naturally. Once you get up there- relax, stay calm.

Don’t be tense, just enjoy the ride.”

“He replied ‘You of little faith, why are you so afraid?’

Then he got up and rebuked the winds

and the waves, and it was

Completely

Calm.”

Matthew 8:26

“Ohhhh alrighty Cass, here’s a ginormous wave! But you got it!

This one’s a little weird but we can do it,

I’m going to help you.”

“When I am afraid,

I will trust in you.”

Psalm 56:3

“When I said, ‘My foot is slipping,”

Your love, O Lord, supported me.

When anxiety was great within me,

Your consolation brought joy to my soul.”

Psalm 94:18-19

“Cassie, push your shoulders back, and down. Ride.”

“Great peace have they who love the law,

And nothing can make them stumble.”

Pslam 119:165

“Chin up, chin up, keep looking up. And don’t move those arms! Rest.”

“Look to the Lord and His strength,

Seek His face always.”

Psalm 105:4

And always, repeatedly…  

“Are you having fun!?”

“Are you having fun!?”

“Are you having fun!?”

If only I could reply, 

“Your promises have been thoroughly tested,

And your servant loves them.”

Pslam 119:140

 ---

“We’re gunna do the same thing over and over and over until you got it,

until you can get up faster.

Then, once you’re comfortable,

I will take you out farther.”

I couldn’t help but think that God is a little like this dad, like this coach.

He’s about business, and he’s about making you quicker, stronger,

so He can take you father out into the ocean of His grace.

For, there is nothing to fear.

If you want to go farther out into the ocean of His mission for you,

or the sanctification of you in His love,

you have to listen,

and you have to be at rest,

so you can.

With time, you aren’t thinking about 1, 2, 3 anymore.

It is fluid, and they all become one.

They become you.

You become more like the one teaching you.

You become more like Him.

When I was with Him, I felt like I could conquer the ocean.

I was not afraid.

Not, not at all.

Why should I?

"Risk the ocean, there’s only grace."

Sometimes- David Crowder Band

Holy God, 
There is no teacher like You. Who can take me on a journey like knowing how to be more like You? Teach me how to rest, how to rest on the waves of this walk with You. I know that this is Your will, and I know that this is how You work inside of me. If I keep moving, if I keep flailing my arms, I can't learn from you. Thank you for Your perfect patience in my restlessness. Thank you for Your constant encouragement, that sustains me. 

Teach me, my God, to listen to your voice, identifying it in the middle of the ocean, to rest in the confidence that you know me, better than anyone else who try to teach me lies, and to follow you, with firm trust and abounding joy.
Thank You.
I love you! 

In Your Perfect Name, 

Amen.