I remember rolling down the beach, picking up speed as I went barreling towards the ocean. Hard packed sand finding its way into every crevice. Eyes squeezed tightly shut so the salt wouldn’t sting quite so badly. Breath held, seemingly forever, in anticipation of the wave.
Sometimes the waves gently rolled over me. Other times the waves violently crashed into me. But once, the waves greedily grabbed hold, pulling me helplessly out towards the ocean depths.
The feeling of this childhood experience, albeit decades ago, returned over the past few weeks. The splash, in the form of tears, suddenly running down my face. The palpable, crushing collision of finality pummeling my body. Waves of grief swiftly taking over, engulfing me, then quietly receding, leaving only fragmented traces: red eyes, the occasional sniffle, and slacken body accompanying my despondency.
There isn’t a right or wrong way to grieve, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Most don’t even realize there are multiple types of grief, outside of losing a loved one. We each process the heartache of loss differently. The one common constant is it comes in waves, taking on multiple forms. It’s a very real and deeply personal experience.
When that greedy wave threatened to steal me away, oh so many years ago, it was my dad who plucked me from its grips. Hands strong and sure. Arms readily embracing me. I felt safe, excited to get out there again, not realizing what could have transpired, had he not been there.
My father loved the water, as do I. He taught me the importance of looking up to make sure I saw the sun and out to the shore so I could keep my bearings, no matter what the waves brought. I find myself clinging to that wisdom today.
There are times when I think we all need a safety net. A constant, protecting us from the waves of life. Sometimes we may be carefree riding on top, while other times, we might find ourselves buried underneath.
Though it’s cloudy today, I lift my head to the Son, seeing His ever presence in my life. I look out and see my family, my anchor held firmly upon the shore. And I hold tightly to Abba, my Heavenly Father’s hand as I ride the waves today.
These verses have helped me on many occasion, and if you happen to be riding your own waves, I pray they will bring you comfort, my friend. This section starts with “Rejoice in the Lord always.” I must confess to you I’m not there yet. I am thankful my dad is at peace. I am grateful for the pure joy Christ provides through his gift of grace. I am overwhelmed by the assurance that I will see my dad again. But if I’m honest, my heart hurts a little too much to rejoice today. And that’s ok…
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.”
Philippians 4:6-9 NIV
My prayer for us is that we truly feel God’s peace in a very real way today. While we may be on different ones, I believe we both are simply doing our best riding the waves. Help me, Lord, keep my eyes fixed upon you so joy will come in the morning.