Crashing Waves

Sometimes I feel like I’m sitting on the beach at the water’s edge. The waves keep coming either washing over me in a soft surge or bowling me over with a giant push. As the waters recede, I barely have time to recover. Water drips from my face, my matted hair, and stings my eyes.

In the distance I see another wave coming, building in its ferocity. Will it be a small one, or will it be the one to truly do me in? The wave swells, eating the water in front of it like a ravenous beast. I dig my fingers into the sand, but the previous waves have loosened the grains to watery mush. I can find nothing to cling to.

Then you’re there, holding out your hand. Your palm is warm and chases away the chills quaking through my body. I meet your gaze and find peace and calmness, but I can hear the roar of the approaching wave. I look away and fear consumes me again. My fingers slip from yours as I try to warn you of the threat.

Very softly, you call my name. “Dineen.”

I can barely hear your voice above the building rumble of water.

“Dineen.”

Reluctantly I look away from the growing threat, so close now I feel the first tremble of its spray. You’re still there, offering your peace, comfort and reassurance. I see it all in your face, and I feel your strength like a jolt of confidence surging through my bones, strengthening my resolve.

I reach for your hands—both this time. You pull me to my feet. I look down at the sand, careful to keep my hands in yours. The wave hits and crashes around our ankles. I feel the fury of the water, but I am not shaken. The wave, which had seemed so overwhelming, now recedes, diminished and broken.

I look again at you. Awe fills me. The tender smile on your face tells me you don’t judge me for my fear. I’m safe now—chosen, accepted, blessed, adopted, forgiven, redeemed.

Loved.

The words tumble in my mind, but I know they’re from you. I don’t know what to say. How do I believe?

Your eyes soften. You pull me into a hug that chases away any remaining fears and doubts.

One word—you speak one word. “Mine.”

I snuggle closer. Tears of joy spring to my eyes. I speak the only thing I can. “Yours.”


*Awesome photos by Joe Glasgow of the UK.