I know what you are thinking… I am small. That’s not news to me. Finish laughing….
The power of God in the ocean is as mighty as any tangible evidence I can find. It makes me feel vulnerable and puny. If I let it, I could be scared into a sprint up a mountain. I admit it, I am a bit afraid of the ocean. I saw Jaws at the wrong age, that’s for sure. Actually, truth told, my mom wouldn’t let me “see” the movie Jaws when it came out cuz I’d be scared, so being the same determined, independent twit then that I am now, I got my hands on the book, read it, and then said to her, I finished the book, now take me to see the movie. She did. It’s not the sharks I think about. It’s not even the jellyfish- though I remember a reunion in Litchfield SC long ago when a teenager in our friend’s group dove face first into a man of war. It was terrifying. He spent his vacation in the hospital and is now bearing scars twenty years later. No, not those either. It’s the undertow and the under appreciated ability of the rip tide to tear a child out of my life for good. Two years ago here in NC a 20 year old kid died in the riptide the week we were here. Yes I have reverent respect for what sort of power the Lord I worship can wield in these waters.
Even so, I swallow hard, pray harder, and encourage my boys to have a blast in the waves. I stand stoically at the edge and count heads after every wave through the lens of my camera. I pretend I prefer to photograph than participate. Well, I really do. However, I am mom, and yesterday Craig had a crisis with work and he had to do some calls while all four of my guys were in the waves with the cousins. Jack has to be held so I went in. It was better for me to just leap into it than think about it too much. So we agreed, I’d stay in the ocean as long as he wanted if he would never let go of my hand. Deal.
We really had some fun. I remember how much I love the feeling of being tossed by the water and anticipating the next big wave and having to decide if I’m going to jump it or go under it. It’s exhilarating. My boys were so happy I was in there with them. We “bonded” in a boy way, not a mama way (which would include something artsy). As we played the waves picked up and got harder. Once a big wave picked me up and turned me over myself in a complete somersault and then dragged me almost into shore leaving me with a nice sand burn. When I stood up and lifted Jack up- no I didn’t let go of his hand- his arm was twisted around! He said, “uh, mom, my arm!” Oh, right, sorry. So, I hoped that would be it we’d be beached whales, but no, he lead me back to the others for more and more until finally his little hand was bruised from how hard I was holding on to it. Then he was ready to go in. Me too.
And all I can say after being battered by the waves for a couple hours with my boys is: I feel small in the ocean. But, tomorrow I will go in again.
Mzungu Mama 