Lesson in the waves

Waves of grace.... the image in these words is one of cleansing and refreshing. A gentleness that envelopes the innermost being and purges the dross of sin and carries it away on the tides. Grace can indeed be that gentle action of God at work in our lives. But after standing on a west coast beach this summer and watching the waves of the open ocean crash into the shore again and again and again, I was reminded that there was nothing gentle about this action. It was fierce even on a relatively calm day, and it was relentless. The pounding action of these waves was most evident on the huge rocks that clustered stoically along the shoreline. Each and every one of them, regardless of their colour, size, or molecular make-up, was worn to a glossy smooth sheen by years of contact with insistent waters. The effect was stunning. Once dull, lifeless surfaces glistened and radiated the gleam of the sun’s rays. I could not resist running my hands repeatedly over their warm silky smoothness. How could something so hard seem so soft?

I’ve mulled this over for some time now – thinking about how waves are often used metaphorically for the grace of God. The dilemma in my mind has probably been that my image of the gentle grace of God and the obvious force and unremitting strength of the waves on that beach seemed completely contradictory. Can grace be that relentless, that determined, that forceful in its attack on the strongholds of my heart?

My own life experience recognizes that it is indeed so. The waves of grace continue to assail my soul because there are still stoic clusters of boulders that persist in resisting the touch of God.
I am so humbled that He has not given up. Of all the impossibilities that the God of the impossible must face, it must be the hardness of the human soul.

And yet His waves of grace continue...

I noticed another effect of the waves that day. The continuous action created a rhythmic ebb and flow that pulsated like a beating heart. Next to the congregations of large rocks lay sandy reaches of beach, ringed by the flotsam and jetsam of ocean life: seaweed strands, shell shards, and crab carcasses. Free from the impediments of intervening rocks, the waves here could reach and stretch and slide almost playfully along the shoreline. These are the places where people like to congregate. It is comfortable here.

As the waves ebbed, returning to gather energy for another run at the beach, the water gently toyed with the tiny grains of sand. Worn to almost microscopic size, the grains settled along tiny rivulets of water, separating by weight into intricate patterns of colour. The resulting effect was similar to the lacy fans of frost one often sees on windowpanes on cold winter mornings. Unlike those frozen images, however, these fans of sand were alive and continually moving, gently shifting and flowing like kaleidoscope rivers.

The same waves. The same fierceness and relentless action. Yet – the effect is so different. Resolute rocks worn smooth and shifting sands given purposeful beauty. How like the grace of God... always working to bring His truth to the hardness of our hearts, always working to remove the sharp, coarse edges that keep us dull to His voice, so that even in our hardness, His glory still shines. And how like the grace of God to reach into those more tender areas of our hearts, where hardness may not be the hindering factor, but perhaps disordered focus, fleeting doubts, haphazard purpose. His grace gently, but consistently, washes over these areas, orchestrating patterns of beauty and colour that reflect His design for our lives.
How like the grace of God.

Waves of Grace (David Noble)
The walls are high, the walls are strong
I've been locked in this castle
That I've built for far too long
You have surrounded me, a sea on every side
The cracks are forming and I've got nowhere to hide

Now I see
The walls I've built are falling
And your waves of grace are washing over me

My heart's been hard, I have been blind
I have often worked so hard to keep you from my mind
I have ruled my life, in a palace built on sand
I want you to reign, Lord, take me by the hand

Lord please reign in every part
I give my life to you
I open up my heart
I want to be like you, I want to seek your face
O Lord please wash me in your awesome waves of grace

Lessons from the trees

On our recent holiday, Dean and I were dirt-biking in a dry, arid region of the interior of British Columbia. The barrenness of the hills exposes their wrinkles and irregularities. At first glance it is not an area that one would generally associate with vibrant life. Recent invasions of the mountain pine beetle have exacerbated the image of lifelessness by encompassing what forests there are with the dull red of death. It is a depressing image.

But our excursions into the less-travelled, less-noticed regions of the hill country brought new images to the fore. The seemingly barren hills were alive with sages and junipers, gently scenting the air with their musky fragrance. Hardy sedges and grasses transformed small pockets of water into little oases for the cattle that roamed at large. Even the rocks supported the tenacious life of lichens and mosses. Everywhere we looked the image of death was supplanted by evidence of life.

But the most striking image of all is forever burned into my memory. We emerged from a forested section of trail into a modest meadow. Lining one edge of the meadow was a small grove of shimmering green aspens. Life. Immediately behind the aspens stood several stately ponderosa pines, all fully intact and beautifully formed, but completely red. Death.

The stark contrast of colour, of life and death reminded me of Deuteronomy 30:19 "... I have set before you life and death...Now choose life, so that you and your children may live, and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to His voice, and hold fast to Him. For the Lord is your life..."

In a world that continually seeks immortality through the mechanisms of self-destruction, may we, by God's grace, choose life. May His life in us be a stark contrast to the death and destruction of sin. Choose life...

Lessons in the frost

One morning last winter I awoke to heavy frost encasing the trees outside my window. The juxtaposition of frozen coldness and fragile filaments of beauty reminded me again of the wonders of the created world. What struck me most that day, however, was the heaviness created by the jungle of frost-encrusted branches. Unadorned, the same twigs, though very visible, were easy to overlook. The bulky overcoat they wore that day gave them a weighty presence that could not be ignored.

Life is much the same - complex, intricate, a tangle of branches and twigs - all reaching, going, growing out from the roots imbedded and unseen below the surface. At times the complexities, though visible, go un-noticed as we focus on the mundane matters of daily life. At other times the reality of the tangle of events, emotions, choices, and relationships that comprise this existence we call life seem overpowering in their presence.

I watched on that wintry day as the sun eased its way above the frozen horizon and touched the frosty, grey trees. The response was subtle but immediate. Cold heaviness transformed into irridescent majesty. Fragments of colour danced, sparkled, and glistened in a unified celebration of life.

How like God in His grace to dress every aspect of our complex lives with the splendor of His purposes, His love, and His forgiveness.

Ever-enlarging enough

"There are good things God must delay giving until his child has a pocket to hold them... He must first make him fit to receive and to have. There is no part of our nature that shall not be satisfied - and satisfied no by lessening it, but by enlarging it to embrace and ever-enlarging enough." George MacDonald