I loved the beach, and I loved all of its variations. In an almost totally still wind, the waves were little and lapped gently at the shore. On windy days, especially at high tide, it seemed the waves would just keep coming in ever more powerful advances, with nothing to stop them. On the average day I was comforted by the steady rhythm of breakers, not gentle but not overwhelming, either. I loved to sit or lay at the water’s edge and let the waves wash up over me, the salt water soothing and warm. The water flowed away, and always came back to refresh me all over again, to wash away the warm gritty sand from between my toes.

My first thoughts of God came as I stood on the beach one windy day, when the surf was high and the waves roared, though always stopped in a gentle meeting with my toes:

I wonder if there is a God. I think there must be, for this is too wonderful to be an accident, this combination of majestic beauty and raw, undeniable power and gentle refreshment.

(Okay, so my young teen mind didn’t think exactly those words, but my sexagenarian writer’s mind now knows how to describe what I was feeling in that memory….

But my ponderings about God were much like the things I drew in the sand, which the waves gradually erased.

Like many going through their teens in the turbulent 60’s, I questioned everything, assumed nothing, felt permission to try anything. My spirit was wide open. It wasn’t yet scarred or weary or desperate. By the time it was, I was in my 29th summer. Completely broken, I shook my fist at the empty air one day and issued a challenge to whatever god might actually be listening, and said, “If you’re really real, if you’re really powerful, you can make me feel that love people talk about.” Then I cried myself to sleep.

The next day, a wave of love washed over me that felt just like those powerful gentle waves at the beach, and I knew. I knew God was real. I knew He loved me. I knew He knew me, and had known me all along. He won me in a moment, and proved His existence in the most personal way possible.

I’d never read the Bible, and my first pastor counseled me to begin with the gospels of John, Matthew, Mark and Luke, and with Psalms and Proverbs, to get to know this God, this Jesus, who loved me so powerfully and personally. One day, to my delight, I read this Psalm:

1 The Lord reigns, He is clothed with majesty;
The Lord has clothed and girded Himself with strength;
Indeed, the world is firmly established, it will not be moved.
2 Your throne is established from of old;
You are from everlasting.
3 The floods have lifted up, O Lord,
The floods have lifted up their voice,
The floods lift up their pounding waves.
4 More than the sounds of many waters,
Than the mighty breakers of the sea,
The Lord on high is mighty.
5 Your testimonies are fully confirmed;
Holiness befits Your house,
O Lord, forevermore.

Psalms 93:1-5 (NASB)

Today, the memory of that first wave of love is as vivid as the moment the Lord first sent it, just like He sent me whispers and roaring hints of His existence on my beloved beach so long ago. Today, however, I know Him. He wooed me with His majesty, His power and love, but He has kept me with His faithfulness.

The forty years between then and now has been full. Full of joy, full of challenge. Full of troubles and victories and failures. Full of adventures and life beyond all I could have imagined.

The Lord first testified to me of His creative genius, His wisdom and goodness, His power and gentleness, and His unrelenting love in those salty ocean waves. He has spent the rest of our life together showing them to me again and again, day after faithful day.

Today, I affirm with the psalmist,

Your testimonies are fully confirmed, Lord. All you have said of yourself, all you have promised, is true. You are Holy. You have washed me in your holiness, and taken me into it, into your house. You have given me rest, showing me that my humanity and your holiness are not enemies or strangers. My shifting, sandy humanity and your majestic waves of holy love and power were designed to meet perfectly together. Yesterday, today, and forevermore. And my heart wakes up grateful every morning. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!

Beloved, I pray that the Spirit of Christ will open your eyes to all the places in your history where His Holy Presence whispered to your soul. That He will cut through all the noise and clutter of life to reveal His faithful love. That He will show you how His majesty and your humanity belong together every day, forever.