Thine

I’ve never been afraid of the water. Maybe because I was born on an island surrounded by water. Probably because my dad had me in the water, jumping off the sides or diving board and making my way back to the edge before I was a year and a half. At age six or seven, I was flying off high dives with little thought of the dangers water can pose. I could swim. Even when I knocked the breath out of me once, I made it to the side. And scrambled back up the tall ladder as soon as my belly stopped hurting.

I can remember once, though, being knocked completely off my feet by an incoming wave at a beach in Florida. Water is powerful. We harness it to make electricity. And yet we can’t hope to contain a tsunami, watching helplessly at it destroys everything in its path. When that wave caught me off guard and knocked me under, I scrambled to find my way back to the surface, unsure of which way was up as slight panic set in. It was scary. Once I got my feet under me and knew I was okay, I stayed in to ride more and more waves. But, obviously, I haven’t forgotten that moment of fear.

Life has waves. Life has billows. Sometimes we’re in the midst of the water, riding waves and thinking we’ve got this when one comes up and sweeps us off our feet. Other times, we think we’re safely on the shore simply watching the tempest when, out of nowhere, a wave knocks us over and takes us out to sea. Our pleasant life becomes a storm. We don’t know which way is up. Fear sets in. We’ve all been there. And, doubtlessly, we’ll all be there again.

Is there comfort to be found in the midst of those waves? When even the strongest of swimmers can’t get their bearing? When we arise long enough to calm down, only to realize we’ve been swept so far up shore we don’t know where we are? The simple answer: yes.

Psalm 42:7 tells us “…all Thy waves and Thy billows are gone over me.” (Emphasis added). It doesn’t say there won’t be waves or billows. It doesn’t say the waves and billows will miss us. It simply states to Whom they belong. They belong to their Creator. They belong to our Creator.

So, the next time that wave sweeps you off your feet or that billow goes over your head leaving you unsure of which way is up, remember: this is God’s wave. This is God’s billow. He sent it. He sees me in it. And everything will be well.