View: Pacific Ocean off the coast of Sayulita, Mexico
(The exact words you are reading right now before they were in type!)
Not so long ago I wrote a blog about BLUE. The color. The significance. The feeling. How I long constantly to be near blue (meaning sky and/or water) because blue signifies motion and adventure for me. When I'm near blue I feel free and alive because I'm on my way.
Vast blue expanses of sky and sea that separate and connect me all at once to my fellow humans- the rest of my planet.
The way you can look out or up into the blue and wonder.
Where does it end?
Who is looking in my direction from the other side?
How much space is really between us?
And at the same time, I realize as I stare into the vast blue, someone, somewhere, is staring back in my direction. And if and when we want to meet, the blue will take us to each other. The blue is what holds us all together after all. Of course it used to be the only thing separating us until people and laws and papers and walls. And perhaps that's why I I love the blue so much. It makes me forget about those things. It makes me feel like I can go anywhere and meet anyone. I love that we all share the blue and no one can really change that.
It's all of ours. The one thing left that we can't really claim. The one space where we can't build walls.
And the sound. The waves. The foam. Endless. So soothing and so constant.
Just. Like. You.
So many of Your creations remind me of how you work in our lives. But the ocean reminds me of who You are.
Big. So very big. And deep and wide. Too vast to ever comprehend. Never will I see or feel or touch the whole of the ocean or of You. No one ever will. Absolutely.
But always we will try.
It-You draw us back. To walk out further and to dive deeper. Because even though we know we will never even begin to explore it all, we want to try. We must try.
The further out we walk we begin to lose our footing. The ground disappears beneath our feet but we are carried-kept afloat. Left to trust the strength, the faithfulness of the sea. Of who You are. And the further and the longer we are carried, the further from shore we venture, the more we understand that we will never understand. The more we find peace in simply being carried. The more we stop trying to gain footing or searching for solid ground below. We fall into the rhythm of the sea. Knowing that the waves will come at just the right moment to keep our head above the water.
And even if we go under. When. Because we will. Most certainly. Even then the rhythm is the same. One of the most sure and constant things on our planet. In all of creation. And if we simply won't fight it. Struggle. If we will continue to be carried and caught up in the rhythm that is the sea, that is You, we will find our way to the surface again. We will breathe deeply again. The gentle waves washing over us and wrapping us up.
The sound of the waves. The crash of the foam-like your voice-strong but gentle.
Never ceasing. Only that we cease to hear it. Allow it to fade into the background of our lives.
The truth is, the ocean never stops. The sounds never fade. Even a little. Even for a moment.
We simply travel too far from their source. Too often. And of course when it's been too long we return. To hear it strong and beautiful and clear. To remember where the sound is coming from. To gaze upon the face of the voice. To remember how it sounds. To let it soak into our souls. To let the salt and the foam heal the places that have been hurt while we were away. To be carried once again.
I long to be near the sea like I long to be near Your heart.
To be carried.
To fall into Your rhythm.
To trust Your rhythm.
To be constantly close to Your voice. Sure of it. Never faded.
To be deep in Your grace.
Surrounded by your love.
Healed in Your salty foam.
Always going further and deeper into who You are. Forever aware of the limitlessness, the strength, the beauty that is You.