I smell. Seriously, I just caught a whiff of myself and it is not good.
We are here and on day two I am getting the feeling the Lord is setting the stage to answer my prayer. What prayer, well, let me start at the beginning.
We departed Cape Town on December 7th and we departed an oasis (physically and spiritually). The day before we left I started my morning early with a walk along a vast white sand beach, soaking in the turquoise water and reveling in a place where I would argue our Creator decided to, "show off" a bit. Little did I know, when I stepped off the sand into beach house, the Lord would press fast forward on my life. Cumulatively, I think I slept fourteen hours from 6 am on the 6th until we arrive at 11 am on the 10th…so 3.5 hours a night but I assure you they were not distributed evenly. I shot off more arrow shot prayers for sleepy bus drivers than I care to remember and had at least one serious heart to heart with God.
Abruptly, he stopped the bus, "We will stay here and sleep for the night."
What? Ugh, I just want to get their already. Alas, the driver jumped out, wandered into the bar and grabbed a drink. The fourteen of us that remained on the bus watched him go in complete silence. We were at his mercy, he had the keys, so we made due. Five people slept on top of the bus, I attempted to sleep on the luggage, and the remaining eight creatively spread themselves across the seats. While the music was bumping and activity buzzed around us I was okay. I figured little could happen to us in our super obvious parking spot RIGHT up front. However, when the music stopped, my anxiety grew. Where did all the impaired patrons go? Did they all go home? It grew SOOOO quiet. Should we leave the windows open and sleep? Is that safe? It is no wonder I can't watch scary movies; my imagination needs no help. My available solution, prayer. Oh did God get an earful that night. This time, however, I did too.
"When, daughter, are you going to decide to trust me?"
We bantered for a good hour and I'd like to say I came into a space of complete surrender but I didn't. He did comfort me by bringing Psalm 30:5 to mind and, as I expected, as soon as the sun came up my pulse slowed. The rest of our ride was bumpy, full of tension as passes were made within inches, and not without me feeling much like how I imagined the goats I saw tied to the tops of passing buses felt — Helpless.
Alas, we are here. I asked him for safe passage and He kept His promise. Promises kept tend to build trust. So, do I trust Him?
Technically, yes, but I am finding there are edges to that trust. Edges where the sand drops away. Where the ocean gets deep.
My prayer had been for God to take me deeper. Gazing on the ocean for a month I realized my relationship with water may mirror my relationship with God. I like playing in the waves. I enjoy most water sports; especially, the ones that allow me to stay close to the surface (aka: I am willing to venture out for a shallow snorkel, standing up paddling or riding a jet ski). But that is about it. Unlike many here, I didn't jump at the opportunity to go cage diving with the great whites and I am none to keen to get my scuba license. It may be that it doesn't interest me but, if I am honest, I think it has more to do with fear.
The ocean is a wicked powerful expanse. I watched the storms roll in sending the fishing boats back into the St. Francis Port. I observed two dead seals on the beach in Cape Town. Seals who are designed to survive repeated entry and exit from the sea. I watched the waves crash in and out on the "wild side" and pondered the power of the undertow that caused the rock to be exposed and disappear over and over again. My conclusion, I am completely confident I am meant to be a land dweller. And yet, every time I looked at the ocean I encounter God. I heard him calling to me. "Come out here. Come out beyond what your senses can fathom. Come out and experience what you cannot begin to understand. Come out where you are out of control. Come where a life vest won't sustain you forever and be consumed."
Consumed, geez, even writing it makes me want to peep my pants. I don't want any part of being "consumed" by the ocean but I think, I may, maybe, want to be consumed by God and His love. I think…
"Take me deeper Lord."
"Precious girl, I long to take you deeper. But only as far as you trust me to go. Then I'll wait until you take courage. Until you take one more step."
