At low tide the beach where I walk has several pools of water between the shore and the waves. These still pools create a beach walking challenge. If you want to be close to the waves you either have to take your shoes off and wade across the pools, or you have to try to jump over the narrowest place you can find.
This morning when I started out I decided not to cross the pools. I decided that it was just easier to walk further from the waves. But it wasn’t long before I sensed I was missing things. I could hear the waves, but only faintly. I could see the foam but it wasn’t tickling my feet. I could see the sea birds skittering along but I wasn’t privy to them poking their tiny beaks into the sand. The gigantic ocean was right there, and I had full access to it but, at first, I wasn’t willing to cross a couple of shallow pools to be right next to it, to be in it, to be surrounded by its power, sparkling light and awe.
And I started to wonder, am I that way with God? He is right there in all His giganticness, power, and sparkling light, waiting for me to make the small effort it takes to enjoy His closeness. I am missing out on so much when I accept a distance between us.
Today, I finally kicked off my shoes, waded across those tiny pools, then marveled in the roaring ocean’s awe.
I hear the roar to the water coming from deep within the earth…God your waves come one after another, crashing all around and over me. Psalms 42:7 ERV