Into the Deep Blue Yonder

My children love the Gulf of Mexico.  I mean love, love.  Love like Santa Clause, the Easter Bunny, and birthdays.  Love like a Southerner loves sweet tea and SEC football.  You know: love. 

I, too, love the Gulf.  I just prefer to watch it glisten in the sun from the comfort of a beach chair, planted firmly in the soft sands of the shore, reclining with my favorite magazine in hand, usually, Southern Living, preferably Rick Bragg's column.  My children prefer to be in the Gulf, churning and twirling in the relentless pounding of the surf.  Apparently, they find this to be fun.  Again, I prefer the reading and sunning safely on the shore, but when my children suggested I join them in their churning and twirling with a chorus of "please" and some really cute puppy faces, I agreed.

A and C suggest we get into our little round tubes and link hands.  I grab C's hand, he grabs A's, and we begin our trek into the deep to ride the waves, a chain of brightly colored blue, pink, and green tubes, bobbing up and down at the mercy of the sea.  I drag my little chain down to the clearest water I can find, water free of murky seaweed, so I can watch for jellyfish, crabs, sharks, or any other marine life that might sneak up on unsuspecting wave riders. Feeding times for sharks are early morning and early afternoon, right?  Wait, that's right now.  How do you stop the pain of a jelly fish sting?  Jellyfish aren't deadly, are they?  These are the thoughts racing through my mind.  My children giggle freely, not an ounce of fear in their water-logged bodies.  I decide to relax and join in the laughter.  A few minutes into our being pounded by the waves and turned topsy-turvy into the sea, A shouts, "This is the best day ever!"  I squeeze the sweet hands of my little ones a little tighter and agree then check to make sure the amorphous, pink swirly thing floating our way isn't a jellyfish.

As we waddle through the surf back to our chairs, I ponder our adventure and wonder, "How often do I miss the 'best day ever' because I'm afraid to trust Jesus's call to leave the safety of the shore and trek out into the deep?"  How often is He calling me to join Him in the adventure of a lifetime, while I cling to the safety of my beach chair, shouting, "No, I'm good here!"  The Creator of seaweed, jellyfish, and sharks has planned a thrilling life for each of us, but so often we miss the thrill because we're content to sit with the seagulls.  I'm not afraid to swim in the sea, but I do find myself anxiously treading with caution, wondering if each step forward brings danger untold.  My children dive in eagerly seeing adventure.  Of course, I'm there holding their hands and urging them to proceed with caution, but isn't that what God does, too?  He invites us to join Him in the deep unknown with the assurance that He will go with us, holding our hand each step of the way.  Go ahead, you just might find "your best day ever" waiting beyond the shore.