line me up.





Standing knee deep in ocean waves
Feeling the presence of God
Creator, creative, constant

A smile of joy…this is for me
A tear of thanks…but why me?
I can not get away from His love.
It is deep and stretches wide.

Sand layered, mixed, folded, and rippled according to the tide.
Each grain traveled, rolled, settled into intricate patterns on oceans floor.

If I look out over the waters waves I see the expanse of His greatness.
Even then, in the heaviness of this beauty, this place, space is but a speck on the globe.

I am taken, moved into a posture of worship.
Knee deep, standing, gazing, watching, and asking, “why me, why now?”

I ask the Father what He wants to teach me in the knee deep water.
Faithfully upon my hearts desire, he answers, “I am constant.”
I lift my eyes from the ocean floor. Salty tears mix with ocean water.

Off in the distance, as far as my eyes can see….there is white.
From East to West on the oceans edge I see….white sails.
He is teaching me gently. Tears.
Sail boat carried in His wind with sails wide open wide and full.

Next answer surfaces directly in line with the sails.
Creation, cruising the surf makes its appearance.
First the fins, next the tails.

Almost instantly as my ipod plays “spirit fall, holy spirit fall”
sea birds fall into perfect formation and skim the depths for food.
Beauty in the sea birds, I ask?
I am constant.
Tears of thanks mix with a grieving spirit within.
They flew, formed, landed in line once again with the white sails and surfaced creatures.
So now…in a straight line we have sails, fins, birds.

As if that weren’t sweet teaching, next in the line up is the fisherman.
Really God? Yes, He answers.
He is too good to my stubbornness.
so the I allow Him to search my heart as the fishing boat makes its way into the line up.

He asks how am I doing with loving and serving people.
The boat stops in front of the sea birds and casts out his line. He waits and reels.
I breath deep ocean breeze and begin confessing my sin.

The way I have allowed outer noise, hustle, distractions to pull me from purpose, hope, and passion.
Mr. Fisherman stalls in the line up just in time for me to listen, accept and find Him constant.
All in the background is still the sails, surfacing of creatures, sea birds in formation and boat now drifting.

I am standing directly in line with the sailboat.
What else could He line up this morning?
Could we end this lesson with hope?

My eyes fall back down to my toes dug deep into the sandy bottom.
The patterns of sand crafted by current. Amazing!
Some rippled lines. Others honey combed designs.
He teaches and I want to be teachable so I listen more.

With one eye on the white sails, He answers me soft.
No matter what you attempt or desperately desire, I am He who layers the ocean bottom with sand.
I line up people, places, spaces in time.
I am the Lord God who performed miracles on a beach just like the one you stand on.

As your feet take you home out of the knee deep and into your places remember…
What you have going on is important to me but so is the rest of the universe.
All of it continues to exist by my power alone. I am constant.

Since we are talking about home…
First priority, your home.
Those children.
That lover husband.
Chores, calls, noise, laughter, tears, meals, neighbors, plans,
If you ask me, I will line you up.

Second priority, your ministry.
Those students.
Their families.
Joys, hurts, defeat, victory, moments, lessons, listening, counseling, hearing ,feeling, leading, speaking.
If you slow down, remember the sails. I will carry you.

My eyes are lifted and now heart full.
God met me knee deep.
Taught me gentle lessons.
Turned my focus from the noise to peace.

I thank Him. Wipe away tearful evidence of a heart spoken too through creation.
Making my way back to my beach chair littered with towells, books, and snacks.
Something catches my eye. A coffee delivery wrapped in beach towel love.
Message is penned on coffee sleeve, “I love you baby.”

This Marriage gift. The whole reason we came to this place.
Even there. He is constant.

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