the tides turn.
the waves settle.
and we remain.
it is christmas morning. maybe some of you find yourselves beached on the shore, wondering how you made it back. it wasn’t that long ago that life ripped your footing out from under you and the rip tide of grief pulled you under. you remember flailing. calling for help. or silently surrendering to gravity. you remember losing strength, breath, and the will to keep swimming. you remember closing your eyes and giving in. it wasn’t that long ago you were drowning.
or maybe. some of you still are.
and then there’s some of you, your nerves remember the undertow. your eyes remember the sting of salt water. from your own tears or god’s. your skin still soft from the texture of sand. and. the texture of hope. you remember. and. even still. somehow. you catch yourself laughing. unhinged. you catch yourself captivated by moments you would have otherwise missed. colors you would have otherwise missed. people you would have otherwise missed.
yes, there are some of you — who were once drowning in grief and beached by exhaustion — standing in awe of how kind life can be. how kind god can be.
wherever you find yourself this morning. drowning. beached. standing. may you know may you know may you know that you are not alone.
the tide turns. the waves settle. and we remain.
merry christmas, friends. you are so easy to love.