Prayer

I have been involved in two conferences since Monday down on the beaches of the Oregon coast where the beauty of the land and sea co-mingle in a rush of the miraculous.  The salt water washing the sand of the expansive shores only inches deep, giving its tide only to receive it back again to churn and roll in a never ending white noise; giving, taking, rolling, foaming, and then again, and again.  The incrediblely flat shores often give way to towering rock monuments bearing the names of what they charade – Haystack and Needles.  Every chance I received between sessions I would be wooed by the sirens of the sea to join them, so I would obey and leave the conference center heading towards the surf. I brought out the skim board I constructed in my garage bearing a flying dragon penned by my oldest son.  Throwing the board down, running, jumping and landing to skim across the thin coating of sea water for 30 yards, creates a joy I can’t explain. I don’t think it is actually the gliding I enjoy as much as the fact that I can actually accomplish the task of skimming at my age.

This much coveted time in the sun and on the surf mixed with the conference speakers echoing in my mind has been so good.  Refreshing. Healing. Good.  When I am alone like this I am confronted with silence. A silence in my soul.  Through which my Lord speaks. I have heard many times this weekend the same theme.

Prayer.

I do pray…without ceasing. I pray a lot. I plead to my God for the safety, protection and souls of my sons. I pray for my wife so many times throughout the day I lose track. I pray for our Church and their confidence in the King. I pray for God’s miraculous and abundance and the transformation of Seattle itself. But is there more?  Prayer is like the line between the land and sea; miraculous.  There is amazing beauty in the land, wonders that are unbelievable, majestic, and awe inspiring. There are equally amazing wondering in the great expanse of the sea, which is so overwhelming incredible.  But that place between the terra firma and the big ponds brings the two wonders together in a third wonder. A place that connects, but lives with its own identity; its own miraculous; its own beauty.

We can know only the land. We can know only the sea. Or we can know the bringing together of the two.  If our mortal lives are represented by the Land and the spiritual is represtented by the Sea, Prayer is represented by the Shore where it is all brought together.

Prayer.

Pray and experience a miraculous like you have never before. Spend time on the shoreline of the mortal. Pray.

Dieing Fish

I was down at the beach the other day walking and praying and dreaming about the future. I seem to do that a lot, mostly with purpose. It happens to be salmon running season for this particular area and particular salmon. I don’t know much about the salmon runs, being a newbie to the Seattle area, but it was obvious they were running. Why? They were scattered around dead at the mouth a the small creek that ran into the Sound at the Carkeek Park Beach.

The seagulls were having a heyday eating the fish that had not made it up the creek or had gone up and done their duty and died on the way down. Big fish getting gutted by hungry birds. The gulls would eat everything but the skin and bones.

One 24″ long fish was still struggling to move through the shallow water half as deep as his body. With half of his body exposes to air it was having a very hard time moving. The gulls didn’t seem to care that this fella was still alive, they were eating him as he struggled to get through the water. While I watched, his tail fin and back became open flesh as the large beaks attacked, ripping off chunks of skin and meat.

I didn’t interfere, it was nature at it’s finest (I guess).

It did strike me how that gruesome display of wildlife is such a perfect picture of what Satan does to us so often. When we are struggling to get to the open seas and we are exposed, whether by our own doing or that of the world we are surrounded by, he attacks and rips us apart, tearing chunks of spiritual flesh from our backs and it hurts and we get confused from the loss of blood and blurr of pain.

The great thing, our Father does get involved. He sometimes allows us to feel the pain which can make us stronger, he always comes to our rescue, picks us up, and washes us off. But when this happens we are picked up out of the water where it becomes difficult to breathe and at times the washing and binding up our wounds hurts even worse, but then in his gentleness he leans down and releases us into the sea, into open waters into freedom, into an Epic Life, where we can swim without harm.

This is Grace. I find myself up the stream not because I am suppose to be there, but because I am going places I shouldn’t be, but am because of my disobedience. I deserve to be eaten by the birds there in the shallow waters, but Jesus my Father would not allow that to happen and lavishes his grace upon me by healing me and setting me free again, even though he knows I could turn and swim right back up that river and not choose to live the Epic Life.

I choose the Epic Life of the vast Sea.