Daring to Jump

I am sitting on a balcony in Poipu Beach, Kauai, eyes roaming the Pacific Ocean, heart thrumming to the beat of wave upon wave crashing.

My husband and I come here periodically, a celebratory pilgrimage of anniversaries, of life, of the very fibers of relationships and moments that make up our daily lives. We come here to praise God, to revel in His glorious creation. We remember what has been good in the previous five or ten years; and we think ahead, we plan, we dream; we anticipate what will come next. It is a place for the open space of our minds and hearts, roaming free of the quotidian cares of life. It is a time to clean out the detritus of accumulated stress and work and grief; to regenerate and heal, to make note of what was good - and not; what to keep and what to throw away.

We watch the surfers a lot. They gather daily at the edge of the shore where we stay. The surf is wild, out-loud madness curling beneath the bend of tide and moon-pull and sun. Men, women, boys, girls - tanned and healthy, strong bodies clutching at surfboards, jumping into curls of white-capped ocean, courage and daring in each practiced move skimming the water. It seems so carefree, this surfer’s life - yet it also is a courageous facing into hard-curling, crashing surf, and I am in awe.

This morning, I looked upon a young man clutching his board, but carefully picking his way along the black volcanic lumps at the edge of the surf, seeking that perfect place to launch out into the restless sea. I watch him scan the waves breaking at his feet, intent to find the safest place to begin this restless, never-ending battle to ride the perfect wave. He stopped suddenly, his toes curling over the very edge of an outer-most rock. He bent down, and dipped his right hand into the waves, then solemnly made - with slow reverence and awe - the sign of the cross, stopping for a few moments to utter, what seemed sure to be a whispered prayer. For what? Protection? Courage? For me, my prayer would surely be for deliverance from the relentless danger these beautiful yet treacherous waves present in a never ending procession into the shore.

And then, picking what seemed to him the perfect crest, he held his board up and out and jumped, the wave then lifting him high onto its crest as he skimmed over it - and out into the ocean to begin his yet-again journey to conquer the waves.

Daring to jump. Daring to face whatever fear or problems relentlessly beat up against the personal rocks of our lives. I can’t help but see the beauty of the analogy, the rightness of it all.

Passionate surfers are dedicated - joyful. That initial jump into the waves speaks of a carefree abandonment, but also underscores the hours of training perfecting balance and judgment and timing. Somersaulting into turbulent waters, they pop up in the surf dozens of feet from their free fall, grab their board, and turning - strike out again for the perfect place to catch the wave, mount up again, and seek yet again, that just-right wave-ride into shore. They are graceful - usually as they balance perfectly on top of a furious curl of water, rushing in to shore; but sometimes, they are awkward, precarious in tipping this way and that, not quite finding the perfect point of delicate balance needed to complete the ride, arms akimbo - seeming not the sophisticated surfer, but as a baby just finding a stride, a step, the first wobble of a life’s journey.

I am not always up to the dare, the dare to simply jump into the waves. I think of the black rocks underneath, the nurse in me shouting out hoarse the dangers of head wounds and leg gashes, stealing away the joy of the abandonment to sea and surf and wild delicious movement. Life does that- it’s turbulent waves can paralyze us on the precipice of our jumping, and thus paralyzed, we never move. Holding out for the ‘perfect wave’ of circumstance, ever fearful of the unseen rocks hidden beneath the waters, we’ll stand on the shoreline of our lives for untold minutes and hours and days, stuck, unmoving.

Watching these surfers, I want to dare to jump. I want to experience the thrill of rushing waters under my feet, knowing that I have a God who is ever mindful of the rocks lurking beneath the surf, always guiding me away from a dangerous riptide, away from hidden dangers, towards a safe and calm shoreline. Maybe in this short few days of open mind roaming, I will find the courage, the gut-deep knowing that it’s time to dare to jump.,