Beach Reflections

May 20, 2011

I love walking on the beach.  There’s nothing quite like the sun on my back, a breeze in my face, sand between my toes, the water splashing up to my knees, and the never ending sound of the waves. The beach is a space that is both infinitely vast and deeply personal – a time that is totally in the moment and surprisingly eternal – a place where I can reflect on life and listen for the voice of God.  When I walk on the beach, it’s as if I’ve stepped into a corner of heaven. 

Walking at North Myrtle Beach, May 2011

This week as I walked, I reflected on the deep places of hurt and the broad places of gratitude in my life.  I realized that the water at the beach is never still enough for me to see my own reflection.  The constant motion, the foam of the waves, the churned up sand – well, the conditions are all wrong for seeing my own reflection!  And yet, I can see the sun reflecting off the water near the shore.  The bright yellow globe may be slightly distorted by the water, but there’s no questioning that reflection!

What is God saying to us, that the sun can be reflected at the ocean’s edge but our own images cannot?

When I lift my eyes beyond the shore to the horizon where the blue-green of the ocean meets the blue-white of the sky, I am drawn into the expansiveness of God’s creation.  I am but one small creature in a universe that extends way beyond the visible horizon to vast horizons across space.  Then, as my eyes are drawn back to the waves that perpetually break and roll into shore, I am aware that waves have broken on shores since long before I arrived, and will do so long after I am gone.  

Like the shifting sands under my feet, as I gaze across the ocean I sense a shift in my own perspective. My eyes see the truth: it is the Almighty and Everlasting God who is reflected in the ocean.  It is the very image of God that surrounds me - the Creator of the universe so powerfully present in this particular moment.  From this perspective, there is an abundance in God’s creation that far outweighs my joys and sorrows; it isn’t that my reflections are insignificant, they just aren’t as heavy as I have allowed them to become.  Somehow, in that moment, I am welcomed into a reality that extends beyond the horizon and I know that my reflections matter to God!

Overwhelmed and humbled, tears flow freely into the very water where the image of God is reflected.  The tears are swept away by the water – the salt of my eyes becoming indistinguishable from the salt of the ocean.  It is as if God has cried an ocean of tears with all those across time and around the world who have shed tears.  In that moment, my deep places of hurt merge with God’s sorrow and pain and I find healing.

Then laughter escapes my lips as I rejoice and give thanks for all that God has done.  Like music to my ears, the commotion of the breaking waves, the sounds of children playing along the shore, and the voices of people enjoying the beach mingle with my own laughter making a joyful noise to the Lord.  In that moment the peace that passes all understanding washes over me.

I think there’s a reason we cannot see our own reflection at the beach.  If we saw our own reflection we’d get lost in it and miss the beauty of God’s reflection.  And it is in encountering God’s image that we grasp eternity.  The beach is but one little corner of heaven where we find healing and hope, grace and peace.