THE WIND IN MY EARS
I've never been surfing. At least, not on a surf board. But when I was a kid my family ventured out to a California beach, and I spent the day splashing around in the frosty water, laying on a board, trying to ride the perfect wave. The water would swell and lift me towards the sky, and in that perfect moment I would paddle furiously, my eyes glued to the shore. It felt slippery and wild, riding a force downhill that I couldn't control, feeling the mist on my face and the wind in my ears. And sometimes I ended with a crash and a swimsuit full of sand. But time and again I would paddle back out, addicted to the sheer energy and adventure of it all.
There's something pure and powerful about joining a wild force that is already in motion.
Sure, I can splash around and make my own waves.
I can stand on the shore and admire beauty and power that stretches to the horizon.
I can soak up the sun, I can build sandcastles, I can people watch.
I know this is not a perfect analogy.
But sometimes joining
that God has put in motion
is like riding on water.
It takes practice to recognize when a big wave is coming. It takes discipline and courage to ride along.
Some will say that we're not always called to be out in the water. It's true.
But most of the time
It's risky, unpredictable, wild
to ride with the force of the tides at your back.
You might get hurt.
It might wear you out.
But there's nothing like it.
My point is this:
God is at work, and I would rather be in the water
than standing with my toes in the sand squinting into the sun,
hoping for a glimpse of something great.
I want to feel the wind in my ears.
God is doing something big, and I don't ever want to be too busy building sandcastles to notice.