Grace Like An Ocean

What if it wasn’t enough? All the love that we bottled up and poured out on the ones we held most dear? We filled our leaking vessels with what we thought would fill the hearts that fester and bleed. We took our unsteady acts of kindness and fragile gifts of hope and offer them like a small child giving the gift of a dandelion to their mother. Deep inside, we know it’s not enough, but it stands firm on the foundation of love. The dandelion fades, the kindness is whisped away like a feather in the wind, but the steadfast gift of love remains.

But it is possible that it wasn’t enough. As age came and captured our bodies, the vessels of our hearts became heavier, like a roof that has endured enough storms, it caves. But we don’t take the time for restoration. And we fill, fill, fill, yet it is never enough. Because we leak, leak, leak.

Until there is nothing left to refill it with.

Until we are empty.

And dry.

And so exhausted.

Then comes the anger. Because we are empty and our love isn’t working. Our communication skills shattered on the ground. Angry with ourselves for trying and failing. And this is close to home.
Because what was the center of my world for so long I see has a failure.
What was the very reason for the breath in my lungs was meaningless.

A valiant effort, like a baby eagle, kicked out of the nest, stretched his tiny wings out, believing he could fly, but plummets to the ground.
It was not without rescue though, because the mother Eagle never lets her baby down. Just as the baby eagle thinks he will never soar above the trees again, she swoops into his helpless state and catches him and flies back to the nest, only for the process to begin again.

But I’m not a baby eagle. I’m a grown eagle, who is tired. I’m unable to save those who are falling. I won’t reach them in time. And even if I did, my strength is not able to save them, because they aren’t baby eagles either.

There are gifts for moments like this.

Restoration and grace have a way of offering the solace we need.

It begins with a picture of the ocean.

The ocean is relentless. Never once does the water fail to kiss the shore or the waves to crash on onto the sandy edge of the earth. It is faithful to the shore. Sometimes ravishing the coast after ferocious winds stir up its strength. Sometimes gently touching the shore, reminding us of his presence. What a picture of grace, I thought, as I stood with the water tickling my toes. The deeper I went, the more I felt washed clean by the dirty water. Jumping the waves, laying onto of their majesty, tossed by their power, suddenly a kid again. The worries, the fears, the tensions all fade away.

It’s like that with grace. I can run, fast and far, away from grace. But without it, there is no restoration, there is no hope.

Sometimes we run from it for valid reasons. Memories roared in my head of when the waves were unkind to my body, when fear flooded my heart and the water terrorized me. Before I had learned the art of the ocean, before I had embraced the love of danger that comes with adventure, stories of me as a little girl being taken by the ocean, a memory I cannot shake here at the shore. But I refuse to let the fear stop me from returning to this powerful force that paints a portrait of grace.

I wonder though, why we always compare the attributes of God to dangerous things?
Grace like an ocean, love like a hurricane, an avalanche. Peace like a river.

Is it because He's dangerous? Is it because what He can do to me could wreck my soul? Maybe I need to drown in Him so He can teach me the value of each breath that I take. Maybe we need His grace to be an ocean because it is unexpected. It might not be what we wanted, what we dreamed about as a child and wished on the bright stars for. But it is far more extravagant, far more lovely than our dreams could ever be. Even the hurricanes and the tsunamis are for our good. It does not come without grief or pain. But the grief is there to soften us and the pain to build up others. Grace is dangerous, unexpectedly so. But grace is also gentle and kind because it is a gift that changes me in the most beautiful of ways. Grace is the ocean that ravages the shores of my life in a hurricane, it wrecks the things that I once thought lovely so that he can build me up into God’s workmanship, that resembles Him, that shines brightly so that they no longer see me, but they see Christ within me. Grace isn’t what I thought, but it is what I need. It is beyond all I hoped for. Grace unveils the truth that I am not enough but covers me so that I am. Grace unravels the truth that I am more flawed than I dare admit but weaves me back together into a testimony of mercy and love. Grace extends a bridge because my offering was not enough, but it lays the foundation of the offering that was. 

Thank you, Lord, for offering me Grace like an ocean, vast and deep and wide, when I deserved nothing of the kind.

“But because of His great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ, even when we were dead in our trespasses. It is by grace you have been saved! And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with Him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages He might display the surpassing riches of His grace, demonstrated by His kindness to us in Christ Jesus. For it is by grace you have been saved through faith, and this not from yourselves; it is the gift of God, not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s workmanship created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance as our way of life." Ephesians 2:4-10