When I was growing up, we lived on a canal that ran into the Great South Bay of Long Island. In the warmer months, I would be able to swim in my backyard without the expense of a pool. Back then, the water was clean and unpolluted, and a very intricate part of my life. Just a few hundred yards from my house was the bay. I would often go to the shore and sit, staring out at the blue water and watching the seagulls.
My father had a twenty-four foot cabin cruiser. I especially loved going to the beach by boat, or going fishing with my dad. He was a good seaman, and I marveled at how he could maneuver that large boat down the narrow canal without disturbing the neighbors' boats that were neatly docked behind each house.
From the canal we would enter the bay. We would either stop to fish or just ride around for a while. I felt very safe in the boat with my father at the wheel, especially in the narrow canal and the bay.
But sometimes he would venture into the Atlantic Ocean. We would pass under a few bridges and then be out on the open sea. This was a little unnerving for me, because I was aware that the ocean could quickly grow rough. When it did, it made our boat feel like a small canoe going down the rapids! But I totally trusted my father's judgement and ability to keep us safe. He knew that if he headed straight into the waves, the boat would "ride" them. And if the sea got dangerously out of control, he always headed back towards the bay, then up the canal, then home.
I was thinking about this part of my childhood this morning, and how it relates to my walk with God. It is very easy for me to trust my Heavenly Father when He asks me to do something simple and "safe". Something within my comfort zone. I can even trust Him when He asks me to go a little farther into the deep. I enjoy His company and the challenge as much as I enjoyed fishing in the bay with my earthly father. But when He leads me into the sea, where I know the waves can be treacherous and my mind can become "seasick," I tend to struggle to trust His leading. It becomes easier to be afraid and to contemplate all the "what ifs " than to face the waves head-on. And the sea can be such a seemingly unending place, so vast. Wouldn't it be easier to stay in the bay where the water is calm, or at most, a little choppy?
But He tenderly beckons me to the sea. He's asking me to trust Him at the helm, to trust that He will not lead me to destruction, that He knows how to "ride the waves" and keep me safe, that He knows the exact time to head back to shore.
Lately, I sense the beckoning call of the sea. I am determined to follow and step into the boat. I am determined to trust my Father at the wheel.
