The last in our series highlighting the riches and range of our Bible reading notes is taken from Bible Reflections for Older People – Clare O’Driscoll’s series entitled ‘Within the waves’.
28 April 2024
Within the waves
I have something of a reputation among my friends for being mildly obsessed with the sea. It’s not just the blustery walks, salty air breeze and invigorating all-weather swims, but also because the sea speaks to me of all the contradictions and complexities of life. There are gentle sunlit days, but also crashing stormy ones – and both have something to teach us.
I think particularly of a stay in Mexico when a cyclone struck overnight. The merry waves we had splashed in the previous evening had, within hours, become deadly, conspiring with the wind to reshape the beach’s landscape into a clutter of deep ravines and fallen trees.
Like the sea, our lives and faith journeys can be both gentle and tumultuous, life-giving and even dangerous, sometimes changing overnight. At the beach, where squalling high-tide waves later soften into lapping shallows, we are aware of all these contradictions. It reminds us of our own limitations and complexities and how, in all this, God is with us. God is still God.
When we look at the sea’s rhythms, how the waves change from lulling to wild and back again, and we can learn so much about our walk with God.
When we look at the sea’s rhythms, we can learn so much about our walk with God.
The safe shore
‘I made the sand a boundary for the sea, an everlasting barrier it cannot cross. The waves may roll, but they cannot prevail; they may roar, but they cannot cross it.’
Jeremiah 5:22b (NIV)
One wild December afternoon on Brighton Beach, I wandered down to the shoreline, standing a little way back for fear of the huge crashing waves. They were mighty, awe-inspiring and more than a little scary as they swelled high and broke in explosive, frothy arcs.
However, for all their noise and grandeur, by the time the water reached where I stood, they were no more than a gently foaming fizz. Nothing to worry about after all.
Threatening ‘waves’ of trouble in life can look overwhelming as they rage and curl to their peak, but often, by the time they reach us, they have run their course. In between their early frightening immensity and the soft splash at the shore, God is at work, bigger than all of it and in the business of calming storms. He sets a boundary around us so that, even if those waves are there, they become a gently foaming fizz in his presence. And while the sand may seem a strange boundary to contain an angry sea, God is never limited by weakness. In his presence, huge waves soften on the shore.
While the sand may seem a strange boundary to contain an angry sea, God is never limited by weakness.
Ripples
For the earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.
Habakkuk 2:14 (NIV)
The waves at Inchydoney Beach were wide and shallow – a morning of hazy sea mist and rain-speckled sand. We walked around the dunes and found a lake of seawater the tides had left behind. My husband and son – the pebble skimmers of our family – gathered a pile of flat stones and got down to business. Never having mastered the skill myself, I was content to watch the pebbles bounce across the water, gazing at the mesmerising patterns of circles spiralling outwards.
Some of the ripples were wide, endlessly circling, bumping into each other like gentle dodgems. Then there were smaller circles of raindrops dancing on the water’s surface, mingling with the larger ones.
Our lives and our loves are like ripples, bumping into others, overlapping and spreading. When we let God’s Spirit fill us and guide us, those ripples will flow grace over all the connections we make. Sometimes our ripples are big, making an obvious difference to the world. Sometimes they are less grandiose, perhaps simply a kind word or gesture. Even when our ripples seem small to us, how we live our lives shows Jesus to others and spreads the knowledge of God’s glory.
Even when our ripples seem small to us, how we live our lives shows Jesus to others and spreads the knowledge of God’s glory.
The wisdom of groynes
Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching.
Ephesians 4:14a (NIV)
They were impressive. The biggest beach groynes I’d ever seen, standing tall, sharp-edged and blocky in newly cut wood, pointing to the sky and shouting their strength. The older ones further up the beach had diminished into smooth stumps, like dot-shaped sculptures moulded by the tides. Then I noticed something. The new groynes had been placed next to older ones, as though leaning on them, girdled together. However strong and impressive the new ones were, they needed to be anchored in ancient wisdom. They needed the older ones to show them where to stand, how to do this thing.
As the years pass, we can sometimes feel diminished, but Jesus valued everyone from the tiniest child to the elderly and infirm. He gave importance to everyone, no matter what their age or background. Through the older generation, God shows the ‘new ones’ how to stand. There is wisdom and experience there, a steadfastness that remains firm through all the changing winds of time.
The ‘new’ can sometimes seem better and shinier – and certainly does have a lot to offer – but there is both beauty and wisdom in age, signposts for the next generation and a vivid example of God’s enduring presence.
Through the older generation, God shows the ‘new ones’ how to stand. There is wisdom and experience that remains firm through all the changing winds of time.
What is hidden
The valleys of the sea were exposed and the foundations of the earth laid bare.
2 Samuel 22:16a (NIV)
The tide was so low it looked like someone had pulled the plug out, exposing the seabed in all its natural messiness, hidden things revealed. Some beaches boast smooth sand at low tide, but this one was all rock pools, seaweed and driftwood.
The tide comes back in – always – but there is value in the laying bare too. All that has been hidden is seen. There is mess, but also beauty and texture in that uncovering. The egrets stalk around, lazily dipping their beaks for food. It is less ‘beach in Sunday best’ and more ‘just out of bed’, real and gritty. We see its scars. When the time is right, the waves roll back in, first gently, taking care of those hidden places, then with power, washing everything clean.
The thought of being exposed can be frightening but, just as low tide reveals treasures in the bones of the beach, we too can be seen as we are. Jesus sees all that is hidden under our ‘tides’ and loves us completely. And then, as with the beach exposed at low tide, his holy waves of peace and healing roll in, first gently, taking care of those hidden things, then with power, washing everything clean.
