We’re wrapping up our yearly Staton family vacation at Hilton Head. Heading home tomorrow. Back to the real world.
I’ll be honest: I’m not a big beach fan. I love the IDEA of the beach. But when it actually all plays out with the chairs, towels, tents, coolers, beach bags, etc., it just ends up being a lot of work.
Then once I get down there and finally get everything set up, I feel like I spend the rest of the time just trying to get cool, stay out of the sun, keep kids from getting sunburned and constantly counting heads to make sure everyone’s still alive.
(It’s not like they’re little and we have to be as hyper-vigilant as we once did. But still.)
Plus I have a strong aversion to sunscreen. I just hate it. Hate. It. I know it’s a necessary evil, but it’s evil nonetheless. It’s sticky and yucky and you have to keep putting on more and more. And the beach is pretty much the only place I have to wear it. Blech.
But the company is wonderful. I adore Brad’s family. The kids love their cousins. And I do enjoy the ocean. So there are perks.
My favorite times of day on the beach are early in the morning or late afternoon/early evening. No sunscreen needed.
God and I have a tradition that began five or six years ago. Whenever I’m at the beach, He wakes me up early, usually around 7 AM, on one of the days and we go walk on the beach together.
(And He walks with me and He talks with me
And He tells me I am His own
And the joy we share as we tarry there
None other has ever known.)
Sometimes the conversations are heavy and loaded. Questions to be answered. Crises to address. Commands to be issued. Other times I feel like I’m just basking in His presence. I like those times the best.
Our beach date ended up being Tuesday morning. My eyes popped open at 7 on the nose and I knew. So I brushed my teeth, pulled my greasy hair into a ponytail, managed to locate my flip-flops and snuck out of the house.
Thankfully this year, we didn’t have much to talk about so I just enjoyed being with Him. I marveled at His creation. Stared at the ocean and pondered its mysteries. Watched people jog and wondered about their stories. Enjoyed the tiny signs of life all around me. The sea turtle nests, the the zillions of pockmarks on the sand signaling teeny crabs just below the surface, the birds, the minnows. And the warm, salty smell at the edge of the water was intoxicating.
The tide was way out so it was a little bit of a walk to get to the ocean. There were several significant tide pools that I waded through on my way, connected by a network of tiny streams. I walked slowly and carefully lest I accidentally step on something alive that would cause both of us pain.
There was a school of minnows swirling through the tide pool and they darted away as I approached. I wondered how long they had been stuck there. Maybe just since the tide went out. Maybe several days.
I convinced myself that the tide would come back for them in a few hours and they could escape, otherwise my bleeding heart may have forced me to spend the better part of my day trying to catch them and release them back into the ocean. But God continued to whisper thoughts into my head as we walked.
Did they know how close they were to freedom? Did they even understand what they were missing? I wondered which ones of them were dying to get home, and which ones would rather stay in the perceived safety of the tide pool.
Then I began to think of people and their tide pools. I wondered if God ever looked down at us, stuck in a life much smaller than He ever intended for us and longed for our freedom. Some of us struggle against our limits and know we’re made for more. Others bluff contentment, convinced that the bondage is a small price to pay for safety.
But the thing is, tide-pool lives aren’t any safer than the open ocean. They may FEEL safer because the minnows aren’t sharing the water with any larger predators. But there are still birds that can come pick them off at any moment.
The other danger is a slow, painful death. The tide pool could dry up before it ever meets back up with the ocean. Food is sparse. Quarters are close. The temperature can rise with no way to retreat to cooler waters.
Oh, how some of us love our tide pools. We think we’re safe because we keep our lives nice and small and there are no obvious threats to be seen. But Satan can still get to you in a tide pool.
And we’re also vulnerable to slow, painful deaths. When life stagnates, it becomes hard to breathe. You’re forced to fight for scraps of sustenance to make you feel alive. The scenery never changes. And when things heat up, there’s no escape.
Some of our tide pools come about gradually by the daily ebb and flow of life. When the tide starts to go out, we either realize that we accidentally got trapped, or we purposely decide to stay behind.
Other tide pools are created by sudden storms. Dangerous turmoil scrapes out huge divots in the sand and we end up deposited far away from the life we were meant for, with no clear way to get back.
Are you living in a tide pool? Did you choose it because you thought it was safer? Did you just end up there one day? Or did a storm in your life leave you stranded?
I’m not talking about your physical location as much as the state of your heart. God wants us to serve Him faithfully wherever we are. You may just be unaware of the spiritual significance of the life He’s called you to. Or you could be stubbornly hiding from God to protect the life you’ve made for yourself. (Good luck with that.)
The deep-ocean life is not about pursuing adventure, excitement, romance, exotic destinations or thrill seeking. It’s not about taking risks just for danger’s sake. It’s living clear eyed, open handed and sold out to God in everything you do.
You can swim the in the depths of God’s plan whether you’re changing diapers or smuggling Bibles into another country. It’s not about outward circumstances. It’s about inner surrender.
If you’re in a tide pool, don’t panic. Here’s what you need to do:
First, don’t get comfortable and convince yourself this is where you belong. Keep watch for the next high tide. If it comes, don’t hesitate. Don’t overthink it. Don’t weigh the pros and cons. Ride it out to a bigger life as fast as you can.
If days pass and the high tide doesn’t come, don’t give up. Remember what you were made for and resolve to make it there no matter how long it takes. And as long as you’re stuck, stay together with your school and go as deep as you can. Satan will have to work a lot harder to get you if you’re in a pack.
Finally, start praying for another storm. I know that sounds ridiculous, since it may be a storm that trapped you in the first place. But a storm may be the only thing that can get you unstuck.
I’ve lived the tide-pool life. A couple times I ended up there by just not paying attention. I’ve also been stranded there by storms. And God sending another storm was the only thing that could set me free.
God may send you daily opportunities to follow Him into deep water. If so, take the very next high tide and don’t look back. If you’re there for more than a day or so, start praying for another storm. Trust God to bring it, use it and save you through it.
I know the deep-ocean life can be scary. (Heck, I’ve spent the last several days watching Shark Week.) But burn this into your brain: More risk means more LIFE. As my former stockbroker sister used to tell me: It’s high risk, high reward.
When you resolve to live a big life for Christ, He may ask hard things of you. You will open yourself up to criticism and persecution. You could be called to speak truth under the crushing pressure of a culture of political correctness. You may have to love the unloveable and forgive the unforgivable. You’ll have to let go of your carefully-guarded dreams of a ‘normal’ life.
But remember Who you’re swimming with and for. We follow a Savior who sleeps through storms, calms storms and walks on water.
When I walked down to the beach later that afternoon, I smiled when I saw the high tide had easily covered the tide pools I had waded through that morning. Those trapped minnows were finally swimming in the vast, dangerous ocean. I bet they were both terrified and relieved.
You weren’t made for a tide-pool life. And regardless of how you ended up there, God will offer you something bigger. Wait for it. Watch for it. And when that fresh wave comes, throw yourself into it and let God take you wherever He wants.
Real life is waiting for you on the other side of the tide.
