Ocean Reflections, Part 2

Part 2

As I sat there, I thought of those who carry burdens greater than my own. What about circumstances that cannot be lightened in the least by a day at the ocean? What about when the trial seems to last forever? When the temporary catharsis of pent up tears is so short-lived that it feels pointless? The waves keep coming, crashing in stronger, heavier, darker than before. Indescribable grief remains. Oppressive, breath-sucking, energy-snatching, hunger-squelching, joy-stealing grief. Physical and emotional pain that is relentless. Searing loss. The weight of a burden that has been and still is far too great to bear. What then?

Still, creation speaks. Still, His faithfulness remains. Even when there is no relief from our circumstances, like the relief that washed over me today as I finally was able to sit on a blanket in the sand, pen in hand, scribbling away my praise to the One Who is worthy, surrounded by the reassuring sounds of the sea, the afternoon sun burning the sand from its blazing perch in the western sky, and the moon hung gently in the eastern sky, standing silent watch over the waters. 

Yes, even then, where there is no such relief, temporary or lasting, His love endures, meeting us there in that dark and lonely place, beckoning us to be still. To enter into His rest. To abide with Him, right there in the midst of our grief, and to find Him sufficient in that moment and the next, one breath at a time. 

He is here. He is with us. He hears our prayers, knows what and how we suffer, having walked in human form, born our griefs, carried our sorrows, and faced what we face. We have not a high priest who cannot be touched with the feelings of our infirmities, but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. 

As the sovereign King, Creator and Lord of all, and the One Who holds all things together by His powerful word, He has the right to offer us relief. He invites us to cast all our cares upon Him, for He cares for us. He reminds us that the Father loves us just as He loves Him and asks the Father to make us one, even as they are One. 

It is only because of the truth of the gospel that we can stand on the shore, or in the valley, or on the mountain top, or in our backyard, or in the grocery store aisle, or, yes, even at the hospital bedside, and know with certainty and unshakeable peace that He is with us and remains always, ever, entirely in control. When human words fail us, His own living Word remains. In the beginning was the word. And the Word was with God, and the Word was God. And this same Word is Emmanuel, God with us. He is with us. To the end of our story and beyond. He will dwell with us! 

He told John, in Revelation 21, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” People would need to hear them. People still need to hear them. I need to hear them. You need to hear them. We all need to hear and remind each other and ourselves often that our sovereign Creator, Whose love for us surpasses knowledge, will one day dwell with us. We will be His people. He will be our God. He will wipe away every tear from our eyes. There will be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying nor pain, for He will make all things new. 

Every child lost. Every grandparent gone. He will resurrect every life, remake every cell, bring new life, new bodies, new joy in His presence for all who believe. Hallelujah to the Lamb! He is worthy! He reigns! And we will be together with Him for all eternity. Looking for that blessed hope and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Savior, Jesus Christ. Even so, come, Lord Jesus!