If Grace Is An Ocean

I breathe in the salty ocean air, with the sand between my toes. Walking along the water soothes my soul and puts the thoughts of my mind at rest. Somehow when the waves wash over my ankles cleaning the sand, they take my troubles along with them, carrying them off into the roaring tide for some poor fish to choke on. Gone. Just like that. A wave of clarity washing over my mind.
Planes fly overhead while carefree swimmers dive into the water. I climb onto the rocks and explore for a little while, watching as the crashing waves drench the warm rocks. I don't dedicate too much time to conversation, mostly I just think, letting my mind breathe in some much needed rest. Lost in the beauty of words on a page, feeding my soul with well-crafted sentences as I peel back chapter after chapter. I listen to the guitar being played and for a while I play it myself. There is something about the ocean that makes me want to sing. Small activities pass the time, such as tossing the football back and forth, playing music, reading and writing. Most of the time there is no need for activity. I am content enough to just lay there, as the sun soaks into my skin. Fingering damp sea shells and letting the dry sand run through my fingers...such simple things and yet they fill me with such wonder.
My sister and I walked along the shore taking pictures of seaweed and footprints, talking and laughing, not concerning ourselves with the clock. She snapped these next ones of me...

The thought in-between the shot

"Running into the dark underground
All the subways around create a great sound
To my motion fatigue, farewell, with your ear to a seashell
You can hear the waves in underwater caves
As if you actually were inside a saltwater room"~Owl City

I am undeserving to drink in such wonder. If anything, I should be chained in a darkened cell, my only view being the outlined shapes of metal bars in the darkness. Instead God gives me this? This beautiful world to appreciate? And what is my natural response? It is to complain and gripe about all that I don't have. In my depravity I choose to please myself and chase after things that never satisfy. The pursuit of satisfaction apart from Christ leaves me restless, wandering for the answers that I've already been given. I realize then that I was tuning out the blessings, allowing my mind to dwell on trivial things and every small sensation of pain or discomfort. Subconsciously I ache for all that I want, asking God to give me the things of this world, with the safety of His kingdom. Oh, how ugly it is to think that and maybe I would never say it directly, even to myself, but isn't that what my behavior is saying? Fortunately it doesn't take too long for God to put me back in my place and remind me that I am nothing, but a useless piece of clay. I have no right to speak back to the potter, correcting or questioning Him. Eventually I taste it. It is pure and lovely. Eternal. Satisfying. Just a sip of the things of Christ make all of my earthly pursuits taste like dry sand in my mouth.

After giving up His very life for a lowly wretch like me, He is still patient. After all that He has done for me...all that pain that He suffered on my behalf, paying all of my debts with His life...that is how I respond? Of course that is not always my response, but for it even to come up at all is an utter disgrace. Still in all of my selfishness, He extends His mercies to me. I hear it in the roar of the rushing tide, see it in the seagulls flying overhead, feel it in the salty water...it's almost as if the waves were screaming it, the birds and sand whispering it...grace.

"We are His portion and He is our prize,
Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes,
If grace is an ocean, we're all sinking."~David Crowder