My faith comes in waves.
Sometimes small and rhythmic, beating to the pulse of my heart, His heart. I walk each step but a moment away from the next beat of faith in my life.
Sometimes big rolls, pulling deep from somewhere unseen. I watch as my faith seems to pull away for an eternity before the thunderous rush comes toward me and washes over me completely.
And sometimes the sea is still. Unrushed and unmoving. I sit and wonder if it’s gone or it’s been there all along just quiet and soft and simple.
But this is how my faith comes.
And sometimes I fight hard. I long for the towering wave when I’m sitting by the still waters or I wonder where the stillness is when it feels like such an ordinary rhythm of life.
And then there are those times when the sea feels like it’s dried up. When I lose hope and wonder if it was ever really there to begin with. I doubt myself. I doubt my God.
Every rush or piece of dry ground, every still water and every lulling wave is just another way He speaks, meets me, loves me.
If God spoke the same way all the time it would become easy to tune Him out. When we question and search and wonder it is a part of our soul seeking Him. And that’s all He’s ever really wanted of us anyway. To seek Him.
So I can wonder by the edge of the big ocean or raise my fist to the dry land. I can swim deep or let it splash over me hard and fast until I can’t breathe. But each time, each wave draws me closer to Him if I just keep seeking.
Read more from Becky at www.myinkdance.com.