the sea and me.

South Smokey Beach - Sunrise fishing

I suppose we get used to not being alone. We forget what it's like to forge ahead into the unknown world without a companion by our side; a husband, brother, friend... We can forget that the world is full of horror; a tumultuous sea ready to devour. I rarely adventure solo, and when I do, my heart beats without bounds, the adrenaline rushes into every ounce of my body reminding me that there's no one here to save me: in this case, it's just me and the Sea. And, I know: the Sea shows no mercy. She doesn't love me. Her waves grow bigger and bulkier; they tumble mercilessly pounding the rocks that have learnt to bend to her arm. Her white froth threatens to drag me under and never again release me to my sun soaked rock, just out of her reach.

Nevertheless, I love the Sea. I always have. Even through she stole my favourite shoe when I was five, threatening to take me with her if I dared chase it. Or, when she trapped my sister and me in a rip when I was fifteen, begging for our lives and releasing us at the last minute. Nothing could alter my unrequited love for the Sea. I love the way my whole body buzzes when the smell of salty air reaches my nose... and how my muscles relax as soon as I touch her fresh, silky waves. I love the deep blues and greens and the shape of fish in the crystal clear waves... I even love how my throat burn when a wave sucks me into it's core like I've fallen into a momentary, horizontal tornado in Kansas.

The Sea is a constant source of comfort for me. She comforted me every time I knew I'd fallen from grace, again and again reminding me of the depth of my God's promises. She calmed my heart and heard my fears when I was frequently grappling with my Dad's death. She wrapped her healing arms around me when I ended it with my first serious boyfriend when I was twenty-one. She shows me truth. She reminds me that although billions of people may be looking at her in some form all over the world, my perspective, my journey, my connection to her matters. Isn't loving the Lord a bit like that? It's easy for me to catch myself thinking why does who I am matter if God has seven billion people He loves like He loves me? Surely He couldn't really see me. He couldn't really hear me every single time I call for Him. When I'm at the Sea, I'm sure He does and I'm sure He loves me completely. And that has nothing to do with how He loves anyone else.

Most of all I love how the Sea taught me how to speak to my Lord. The vast, meandering horizon taught me of love greater than my love for her; a love greater than I'd ever believed to be true.

When I go to the Sea, I feel my saviour; I feel fresh grace; I feel brave.

The Sea knows me - and even though she wouldn't hesitate to destroy me, maybe she does love me after all. She fills my heart; she welcomes me home.

The seas have lifted up, O Lord // The seas have lifted up their voice,
The seas have lifted up their pounding waves // But, mightier than the thunder of the greater waters,
Mightier than the breakers of the sea // The Lord on high is mighty!

Psalm 93:4 x

Photo: Sarah Lev - dusk at Boulders Beach, South West Rocks, NSW