I’m a midwestern girl. Born, raised, married and will more than likely grow old and die in the same midwestern state. Once every few years I get a hankering to experience something outside of my normal hills, trees, and humidity. So we hop in our car and drive to the ocean.
The ocean is intimidating to me. I guess it’s the unfamiliarity I have with it. I’ve learned I don’t know what I need to know to really be “safe” in it. Things like a “warning flag for dangerous animals” really does mean something… hello jellyfish stings. Riptides exist and could kill me. I can get farther from the shore than I care to be, quicker than I thought I could, and experience waves bigger than I want to experience in a short time with a boogie board and a 9 year old girl.
So my respect-for/ fear of the ocean is probably healthy for a landlubber like me.
But one thing about the ocean that draws me back to dip my toes in it time after time is it’s immensity. Usually my first few minutes of visiting the ocean is spent standing at the edge with my mouth slightly agape in a smile. “Wow” usually slips from my lips. I stare and focus as far out as I can to see ships that I know are bigger than my house but appear to be the size of a bobber in a pond near where I call home. I think of all the sea animals that are out there, how I’m just one little dot on an enormous map looking out at something that connects me to another small dot(person) standing on their shore miles and miles away who doesn’t look anything like me, talk like me, have customs like me, etc.
I know, I know, I probably analyze things too much. But it’s only for a second, then it’s to the business at hand, wading in the water looking for shells and crabs amongst the waves that crash against my legs and knock me around.
So I read a quote this morning from a book I’m reading about discipleship of women. The quote is, ““If you want to build a ship, don’t drum up people to collect wood and assign them tasks and work but rather teach them to long for the immensity of the sea.” – Antoine de Saint- Exupery. It really struck a chord with me. Just like my occasional venture to the ocean is brought on by a desire for adventure, our spiritual lives are spurred on by the desire for something much grander and more splendid than the lives we trudge through on the regular. My lack of excitement in my pursuit of God is often fed by my contentment to stay in the safety of my spiritual “mid western” state. It’s easier at times to stay far inland where the risk of something much bigger than me is far, far away. But God has put in each of us a desire for “the immensity of the sea”. Not only does He want us to stand on the shore of experiencing Him and admire His greatness, He wants us to explore the depths of His oceans of love. This takes leaving behind the comfort of my predictable life and pursuing the direction my adventure guide, the Holy Spirit, leads me. That’s not always comfortable or familiar, but it is oh so very good!
There are times this exploration leaves me a little shook up by the waves knocking against my legs, but if I persist in my exploration of all His goodness I will find treasures that few people experience. It is then, when I explore Him in His greatness that I understand that there is nothing bigger than Him and His love for me. It will take a life time to explore, a lifetime of inexplicable treasures and joy for me as I pursue to understand the “immensity of His sea”.
“Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory in the heavens. Through the praise of children and infants you have established a stronghold against your enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger. When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?”
Psalm 8:1-4 NIV 
Last night Rich and I watched “Windtalkers”, a movie about the Navajo language being used as code during World War II. Nicholas Cage stars as a marine who was assigned the duty of protecting one of the Navajo Code talkers while in battle on the field. I was struck by a phrase in the movie that Sergeant Joe Enders repeatedly said, “We have to complete the mission.” Even under the most horrendous circumstances this was his goal. He would sacrifice all in order to complete the mission.
Around the time that Rich’s dad was suffering greatly from cancer, Rich and I took our kids to see “Narnia- The Voyage of the Dawn Treader” at the movies. In the movie there was a brave little mouse Reepicheep. He was a scrapper who fought for Aslan’s honor. The whole movie and the book that inspired it is an allegory of great spiritual significance. My kids may not have gotten it but my husband and I did. With all the events of our life at that time being what they were we both broke into tears as the little mouse stuck his sword in the sand and said, “I won’t be needing this any more” He then began to make the voyage to Aslan’s land, a symbol of heaven. Our kids were amused to see mom and dad crying at a kids movie about a quote from a mouse and continually teased us after we left the movie. I turned to them and said, “It was so true, he didn’t need his sword. His fighting was over. He was going to be with Aslan.” Once again tears welled up in my eyes and once again the kids giggled.
I remember my first encounters with my great aunts when I was a kid. The main impression left on me was, “Wow! That lady is old!” I was probably 4 or 5 at the time. I looked up at my Great Uncle Raymond’s Wife. She seemed nice enough, but “how old is she?” was what ran through my mind. It’s easy to process a grandma and think of her as being old. That’s the way it should be. Grandma’s are meant to be old, soft, sweet, and the presenter of all kinds of goodies. But great aunts, they are hard to categorize in a young girls thoughts.
Your Love 