The first time we took Sage, a colicky infant who never slept more than an hour at a time, to the beach we were amazed at the impact of the crashing waves, the ebb and flow of the rising tide to calm and heal our sweet and anxious boy. I would strap him into the baby carrier and walk and walk and walk. I could have walked for miles then, so desperate for hands that could heal, a song that could soothe, an embrace that could lull my sweet unsettled baby to sleep. This great mystery of a sea that I had both feared and yet was hungry to understand as a child myself, was now offering the deepest knowing that one can ever find or receive; that love is present in many forms, and just as the tides of our life rise and fall the ever-present mystery of God’s healing love is as sure as the waters that crash upon the shore, one wave at a time.
We were back at this same beach, the one Sage calls “his” just a week ago. It is with gratitude for the mystery of life and its complexities that I return …