Wind and Waves

“Don’t let the choppy water scare you,” said the skipper, “it just means there’s wind.” I knew he was right, but still something within me wanted the wind without the waves. It was a dramatic day on the bay, one in which we got soaked and almost flipped, but it was also exhilarating.

This memory resurfaced recently after a particularly troublesome day. I found myself on the shore of a potential creative project and saw countless waves bobbing up and down and creating an occasional whitecap. When I focused on the waves, I recoiled, but when I remembered the waves were the result of wind I walked toward the boat.

In biblical times, people felt God made himself known through wind. The fancy word in Hebrew is ruach, which means mighty wind. They felt God came and surrounded us like a breeze, and after Pentecost the early church felt God came and blew through our lives like a Holy Spirit daily.

The problem is, with wind comes waves.

Just ask the artist that feels inspired to write a memoir, an alcoholic who feels led to put down the drink, a child who sets sail into a life independent of her overbearing parents, a woman who leaves her unhealthy marriage, or man who changes his safe career of 18 years. In each case, there’s a mighty wind promising a new destination, even if it lies beyond the horizon. As exciting as such a journey might seem from the shore, the wind that carries also creates waves. We will likely get soaked and almost flip. No wonder so few set sail.

If we focus on the waves, we’ll either stay on shore or search for harbors where the wind doesn’t blow. (Such harbors come in all shapes and sizes, and, if we’re honest, we know which ones we return to regularly) But if we celebrate the wind, because we know its source and its purpose, we can learn to open our sails and allow it to carry us across the water to the place God always wanted for us.