Kiss The Waves

I HAVE LEARNED TO KISS THE WAVE THAT SLAMS ME INTO THE ROCK OF AGES — Charles Spurgeon

Recently I watched an episode of Grey’s Anatomy that left me weeping as I sat alone in my living room. Two of the main characters received devastating news about their unborn child and the episode kept cutting away to flashes of their past…falling in love, getting married, creating a nursery. Maybe I cried because I’ve had two miscarriages and the storyline tapped into memories of loss and profound confusion. I think that was partly it.

But the other part was something else entirely.

As I watched and wept my mind began to cut away to flashes of my own life. In a broad sweep, a panorama view, I saw myself in bits and pieces.

And I wept because I saw that I am stronger now.

The waves I’ve kissed. The ones that slammed me into the Rock of Ages. They made me strong.

I can hear the fan whirring in my bedroom as I type from my kitchen. In the quiet something more than tears are spilled. My story. Pages and posts offered to many. Secret scribbles known only to a few. Unwritten words that never see a page, unspoken, never ride the current of the wind. This is my life. This is my ocean. These are my waves.

And He is my Rock.

Part of me resents that Instagram post. Resists the idea of kissing the waves. The idea that pain and grief, loss and rejection, can be in any way good.

But the truth of it pings at me. Like a boy with a crush who won’t give it up.

I know it’s true.

My cheeks are dry now. The bright light of epiphany has dimmed. But in its wake lies a subtle truth that anchors my life.

I am who I am because I’ve been slammed into the Rock of Ages. All I will ever be, the very best parts of me, are secondary to the bitter-sweet concussions delivered to my heart and mind as I threw myself against Him.

I’m not a pristine and perfect dish. One can easily identify the cracks in my exterior. Jagged lines that intersect and hint at prior repair.

This is the sweet in the bitter-sweet: His overwhelming grace and extravagant love are the glue in my cracks.

As we break against the Rock we are repaired by the Rock. 

We are never quite the same.

We carry something beautiful inside of us that we did not own before.

We know the touch of His Love.

And then we kiss the waves…

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