The goal was to write something beautiful. Something that would inspire and encourage. I wanted to write about cliffs and storms and weathered rock and the beauty that lies there. I wanted to write about the joy that comes from standing at the edge of the sea, as the water bubbles over your feet. I desired to pour out what is in my heart, gratitude for my God who is bigger than worries and fears, and who always leads me in the climb or along the shoreline.
And yet, here I am, at a loss for words. At a loss for a story with a character who is brave, courageous, and resilient. Here I am without a strong beginning, entertaining middle, or a clever ending that wraps it all up into a gift of printed words and thoughts. Grammarly wishes to correct me (quite frequently), and my computer seems to be staring me down.
Perhaps there are no words that can describe the small, ordinary things that fill my days with gratitude. The whistle of the train, the sound of rain falling outside my window, mismatched socks, old photos, crochet hooks, and crayons spilled on the floor. On the shore of life are many marvelous things; memories like sand that sparkle in the sunlight and warm me from the inside out, small reminders like shells dot my journey, all pieces of a vast ocean where the days, like waves, leave patterns on the shoreline.
There aren’t words that can aptly convey the beauty of weathered rock, or in the hard moments of life. Multi-colored carnations spread across a casket, the smell of my best friend’s shirt as we hug and then part ways because of circumstance or time, the strands of hair that catch in wet eyes when I have been wronged or forgiven. The twinge of pain that clutches me somewhere deep inside when I feel lost and uncertain.
Life is made up of moments where we must rely on something to guide us, whether we are rising up from the sea for the first time or if we are climbing over rock that leaves us weary and spent. Climbing up also means there is a risk of falling.
But oh, there is beauty in all of it, if we just let our hearts see it.
We can be weathered but strong. We can feel the erosion of time and hurt, but we can also be resilient. We can worry about falling and failing, but we can also rest assured that the hand of the Lord will guide us over rocky terrain and pull us up when the face of the cliff overwhelms. David understood and made it known in Psalm 18:2, when he exalted the Lord for being his 'rock, fortress, and deliverer.' We should laugh. We should dance. We should say goodbye, remembering that another hello will come in the familiar or the new. We should skip rocks and collect shells. We should let the sand sift through our fingers, and shout from the highest cliffs and mountaintops the message of God’s unshakeable love, forgiveness, and protection. We should carve out our story and who we are becoming in our daily walk with Jesus.
Can we be resilient in difficult times?
Can we weather storms? Can we spot erosion and stop long enough to tend to it through prayer and fellowship?
Can we walk the shoreline and spot gratitude?
God is bigger than my worries and fears, and He always walks beside me, whether along the shoreline or in the climb of daily life.
I am so grateful. And still, At a loss for words.