Kissing the Wave
Charles Spurgeon once said “I have learned to kiss the wave that throws me against the Rock of Ages.” I’m learning this myself these days. It’s a hard lesson.
Not All Waves Are Scary
The Spurge wasn’t just talking about any ol’ wave. There are many “wave” varieties in our lives. There are the gentle, lapping kind that lull us to sleep and calm us. Those are nice. We might stand in the surf up to our ankles or knees and let the water soothe us or listen from the dryness of the deck or pier as the sound of the lapping waves gently rocks our souls. Our feet remain surely planted in the sand and the waves just move around us, kind enough to leave us undisturbed and peacefully enjoying their presence.
Waves get bigger and more choppy as the wind starts to stir the undercurrents. But even, big, choppy waves can offer a sense of enjoyment. These are the waves surfers seek out for the thrill of riding them onto the dry shore. While they can look big and scary from the shoreline, they offer quite an adventure for those who are willing to diligently learn to master them and ride their peaks.
But as weather conditions over the water get more dicey, so do the waves. Storms roll in and suck up the sea water into their pressure, thereby creating dangerous, damaging waves that slam anything in their paths up against the nearest solid surface. (Please forgive any scientific errors in my description. I’m no meteorologist!) These were the waves Charles Spurgeon was referring to. Dicey, scary, storm-fueled waves that can tear your safe little boat to shreds and slam you against hard and jagged rocks.
Life Waves
Chances are, you found this website because you’re following my husband’s and mom’s cancer journeys. My family is consumed by the last kind of waves these days. I’ve told people that it feels like there’s no good news left. I go throughout my days waiting for the other shoe to drop, certain it’s filled with lead. I’m tired all the way down to my soul. My steps are more laborious, more drudging, and more reluctant than they used to be. I don’t want to be thrown against another rock, so I hesitantly stick my toe out, hoping it won’t get lobbed off—again.
But this quote from Spurgeon keeps coming to mind. What if I’m supposed to be learning to kiss the wave? How do I even do that? I’ve been praying about this concept quite a bit over the last couple of weeks. God is proving himself so very present in my pain and confusion. But going as far as kissing the wave? That’s quite a lot for him to ask of me if you want my opinion. That’s like inviting affliction into your life. No one wants to roll out the welcome mat to suffering.
The Un-Welcome Mat
Have you seen the funny not-so-welcome mats you can buy that say things like You Have No Good Reason to Be Here, Leave, Go Away, or my personal favorite Like a Good Neighbor, Stay Over There? I would like one of these for suffering, please. Add to cart! If we’re honest, we’d all say the same thing. I’m a suffering wimp. 0 out of 10, do not recommend. Yet, God has seen fit to allow a fair amount of suffering into my life over the last year. How does one wrestle with that and still come out trusting God?
It probably won’t shock you to hear that I have no good answers for that last question. I’m merely stumbling through the darkness, finding my way as I go, like anyone else in my shoes would be. And in the middle of my dark moments, God reminds me of verses like:
“When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.”
Water plays a significant role throughout the Bible. God uses the theme of water to describe his power, his deliverance, and his Spirit in ways our finite human minds, bound by space and time, can understand. Water is described as everything from destructive to life-giving. Water is essential to human existence. Waves come and go. Waves always retreat eventually. Right now, I’m learning to kiss the wave. I hope it’s a lesson I’m learning well. I know I certainly fail more often than I succeed. Today, I’m reminding myself that being tossed against the Rock of Ages is a secure place to be. It might be disorienting and even painful to get there, but standing on the Rock of My Salvation is a secure and steady safe harbor, even when it looks dreadfully frightening.
Selah.
