by Rev. Danielle Rogers
I spent many summers in Maine and Cape Cod as a child. I loved escaping the sticky humid hot days in New York city and relished the beauty of sand, ocean side breezes,, and open space. For the first seven years of my life I spent a week near the ocean and it became a refuge, my personal playground where I built lopsided sand castles, ran up and down the beachfront and wadded into the sea. I've never been a strong swimmer but I loved walking into the ocean and jumping into the small waves that effortlessly carried me. I felt free, I felt safe. The sea and beach became my anchor, it's where I felt God's presence.
One summer I went to a retreat with our Church for a week-long vacation. I was five and traveled with a family friend while my Mother worked in the city. I spent the week at the beach, the weather was sunny and we had a wonderful time singing camp songs, having bonfires and relaxing. On the last day of the trip we drove back to the beach for one last visit. The sky was cloudy and dark, the air cold, and seagulls were flying above us. I looked into the horizon and saw the sea rising, a storm was approaching.
For the first time I realized my anchor and safe place, wasn't always safe. The waves looked menacing and I stayed firmly planted in the sand. I watched cautiously as the distinct feeling of rain drops started falling and the smell of the ocean and wind engulfed me. I said goodbye to the sea and we headed home. The storm followed us all the way back to New York City.
I've always remembered that trip and that day. It cemented my love of the ocean and my beginning of a conscientious spiritual walk. I didn't have the words to express my feelings at five, but upon reflection I experienced a strong visual metaphor for my continuing lifelong faith journey.
In Psalm 139:9-10 it says, “If I ride the wings of the morning, if I dwell by the farthest oceans, even there your hand will guide me.” I felt every word of this verse on that cloudy day. I looked into a tranquil sea that became turbulent and unpredictable, yet familiar as I had entered that ocean every day that week. My uneasiness of the world around me felt unsafe, but my time in quiet waters reminded me that no storm lasts forever. I had found an anchor in God to secure my uneasiness, fear and anxiety.
As we celebrate the New Year and the birth of Christ Jesus, I am brought back to the ocean. I feel the familiar love of this season, the brightness of Jesus in the darkness while acknowledging the unpredictable storms that pass through our lives.
2020 has been unrelenting for many of us, and we may feel alarmed by the engulfing waves, while we reach out for an anchor of faith. Having faith is a continuous effort, it grows and at times recedes, but it can be renewed. I found my anchor all those years ago and I have been through a myriad of storms. Some have swallowed me whole, but my faith and anchor in God carries me, like the small waves I use to jump into as a child.
I pray for God's grace to surround you and protect you through the storms, the wind and the rain. May your Faith establish strong roots to bend with the storms and stand against the sun on dry days.