There’s a sweet lull that settles in as spring deepens toward summer, like the gentle pause between ocean waves – a pause that mirrors my own journey from restless motion to sacred stillness. In this interlude, what was once a blur of scattered moments has found its rhythm, like tide pools settling into their rocky hollows, each day flowing into the next with a grace that hints at deeper waters still unexplored.
The path to this stillness stretched longer than I could have imagined, meandering like a river that knows the sea lies ahead but must first learn the contours of the land it crosses. While my mind grasped at peace in those early days of the year, my emotions revealed their own timeline, flowing at their own unhurried pace through terrain I hadn’t expected to traverse. What began as violent storms of perpetual motion – the endless chase of achievement after achievement, the cold arithmetic of results – gradually began to yield to something else entirely.
Each wave of anxiety still ripples through my carefully cultivated calm, but their reach grows shorter, their impact gentler, like thunder learning to whisper across still waters. The old patterns run deep – that compulsion to measure worth in metrics and milestones, like notches carved into bedrock beneath the sea. Yet day by day, I watch their grip loosen, their power to seize control in moments of uncertainty slowly dissolving like morning mist over calm waters.
What began as intellectual understanding needed time to settle into bone and breath, to transform from concept to lived truth. Like a novice swimmer learning to trust the water’s buoyancy, I had to unlearn the habit of constant striving. Each moment of surrender became a lesson in trust, teaching me that true stability comes not from controlling the waters, but from learning to move in harmony with them.
Even while drifting in open waters with no shoreline visible, I’ve encountered a presence both tender and mighty – the unwavering faithfulness of God illuminating every storm like a lighthouse whose beam pierces the darkest night. This understanding has come through moments of floundering, of swallowing bitter salt, of finding my balance only to lose it again. Yet each struggle against the waves has brought its own wisdom, like treasures found in the depths where light barely reaches.
Gradually, I’ve learned to float in His presence, to move with the current of His grace rather than exhausting myself fighting against it. In these vast waters, I’m coming to know not just the concept but the person of God – His character, His heart, His ways unfolding like the layers of an infinite ocean. With each passing wave, faith becomes muscle memory, its weight and substance as natural as breathing beneath the surface.
Something is rekindled in these depths – a love reserved uniquely for God, rising like a tide within me. It flows as a response to His faithful presence through every season, through both calm seas and raging storms. With this love comes a deeper understanding: every current, even those that seem to push against me, works toward something beautiful, part of a greater flow I’m only beginning to comprehend. Every wave, whether gentle or fierce, carries purpose in its motion, like the ocean’s endless dance of giving and receiving.
The understanding of God’s omnipresence has transformed from theological concept to lived experience – like finally noticing the water you’ve been swimming in all along. There are countless fathoms still to explore, each day bringing new revelations like shells unveiled by the receding tide. What began as learning to swim has become an invitation to dive deeper, to let His love not just surround me but flow through me, transforming every part of who I am from the inside out.
In these sacred waters, I’ve come to understand that walking with God isn’t about reaching specific milestones or achieving particular goals. It’s about cultivating a deep emotional intimacy with the Divine – a relationship that transforms how we experience every moment, every challenge, and every joy, much like how the ocean shapes everything it touches. The tranquility I’ve found isn’t the absence of movement, but rather the discovery of divine rhythm – like learning to float with the sea’s gentle undulation rather than fighting against its current.
What began in spring’s sweet lull has deepened into something far more profound: an authentic, living relationship with the Creator who has been present all along. He waits not for my accomplishments but for my heart to open to His love, like the sea opening to receive the rain. In releasing my grip on predetermined outcomes and surrendering to this sacred flow, I’ve found something far more precious than any achievement could offer – the endless depths of divine love, as vast and eternal as the ocean itself.
