Every year on the beach near my parents’ house, baby sea
turtles hatch from their nests in the middle of the night and make the trek
from the sand dunes to the ocean. On one occasion I got to witness this strange
miracle of nature. Somehow, despite just recently struggling their way out of
shells buried in the sand, these little guys knew exactly where to go. The
bright light of the moon guided them to the sea that would become their home.
Normally baby animals (or people, for that matter) seem so cute and helpless at
birth. Not baby turtles, though. These guys were definitely cute but they were
also on a mission. Sure, some of them got distracted and others took the
slightly less direct route to the water, but eventually they all got there.
The thing is, sea turtles are made for the water. They may be born on land, but as soon as they
hatch they know instinctively that the beach is not where they belong. Even
though they are probably tired and weak and maybe even a little dumb
considering the size of their baby turtle brains, they brave the journey across
the dry, cold, treacherous sand to get to where they need to be. They use their
flippers to crawl so that soon they can use them to swim, and the only thing
guiding them is the unmistakable feeling that there is something better out
there.
Have you caught on to my analogy yet? J
We are made for God. I believe that there is something inside everyone calling
us to His will and purpose. Yet the journey is not easy. To eventually be swept
up in the current of His love and guidance, we must cross the desert of doubt,
shame, fear, and pride. To fully surrender to His calling for us, we must give
ourselves over to the waves pulling us out to sea. There is no sticking a toe
in to see if the water’s too cold, only a total plunge into the depths of belief.
These turtles embody a child-like faith to me. How different
would my life be if I were constantly striving towards the ocean rather than
wasting time looking around on land? What sorts of experiences are waiting for
me out in the unknown current? Why do I sit around asking myself these
questions instead of just getting a move on already?
I am definitely in the sand right now. I wish the process
were that simple, that I could just take a dive and float on my merry way.
Unlike the turtles, however, the sand tempts me to return. So warm, so soft, so
comfortable, it seems like a nice place to hang out sometimes. Yet, as I look
out across the beach I see clearly that the sand is finite, whereas the ocean
is eternal. That’s where I’m meant to be.
