Almost a month ago, I stood on the banks of Ravenglass at twilight and England spoke of my destiny. I stood in the place where relatives of centuries left their imprint on the rocky shores beneath. Where the gales of hardship beat against the walls of fate but they still carried on.
The tide pulled her waters out to sea, left boats captive on shore waiting for her ripples to return. And I am mesmerized by this scene of tipped over sails like toys left stewn on the floor without hands to push them along.
“This is your life without my Spirit to guide you,” he whispers with each click of captured beauty. Grounded. Will you wait for me? The rushing waters of my Spirit will navigate to places you have never been before. We will move out together into uncharted waters of adventure.”
When life returns to grocery lists, soapy sinks, last minute school projects and waiting rooms of life, I walk along Atlantic shores of home. Cast my cares out like fishing line searching for answers that float in deep water.
And just when I think my line is empty, nothing but the voice of the wind to fill my ears, I look to the horizon. Cup hands around eyes to see the outline of a boat headed out to sea. The rocking waves of His Spirit carried me here and the adventure he planned, it’s already under way.
I just couldn’t see past what was right in front of me.