You can’t open up social media, turn on the television, or even walk through the store without being inundated with messages about the COVID 19 virus. My sister and I both work in Highered and our responsibilities, our “normal”, has been turned upside down, as campus’ scramble to provide a safe learning environment in the wake of health concerns. On top of this, today, my daughter’s school announced they will be closing for at least the next 2.5 weeks! The uncertainty of it all, well, can just feel a bit much at times.
As I quieted myself for a few moments, I remembered a sunny summer day, while swimming in Lake Michigan, that I found myself drawn out to deeper water. Our family had been standing close to shore as we monitored the children playing in the gently tumbling surf. I ventured out past the first sandbar, beyond the buoy dancing on the waves, leaving behind all the other swimmers.
The sounds of humanity began to melt into the warm breeze as I turned my back to the shoreline, released the air in my lungs, and allowed my body to give way to the rise and fall of the incoming swells. I looked out across the horizon and got lost in the cool blues and greens illuminated by the glistening rays of golden sunlight. Peace.
The darkness of the deep water closed in around my body. I moved my feet in a circular motion to keep my head above the waves. I gave no thought to what might be lurking below me. I was too caught up in the moment to be concerned about the unknown. I just knew, in that space, I felt at rest, and the pressures and anxieties of life seemed nonexistent.
As I allowed my cares to be washed away, my mind began to reflect on Isaiah 43:1-5.
When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you.
Isaiah goes on to express God’s deep love and heart of restoration for his people.
The promise of God is not to keep me from experiencing the deep waters, or the rivers of difficulty, or the fire of tribulation, but that he will be with me. He will be present. Close. He promises he is fully aware of our circumstances, whether we were brought to that place because of our own choices, the choices of others, or just life circumstances. He will be near.
Sometimes there is beauty to be found in the deep waters. There can be peace in the midst of the unknown. I don’t have to have it all figured out, or know what lies beneath me. I can rest in the ebb and flow of the waves, keeping my eyes on the horizon, watching the Light bring the colors of my world to life. Experiencing peace, beyond the buoy.