The call of God is like the call of the sea, no one hears it but the one who has the nature of the sea in him.—Oswald Chambers
On the sand, alone but for an occasional beach walker, I could feel Jesus sitting next to me. Praying a stilted prayer through my tears, I told Him I trusted Him.
I knew His Word could be believed. At a time in my life when there wasn’t much I knew for sure, this I clung to.
God was making good on His promise to me, in His time. I understood it was taking a while to gather the pieces and place them just so, and that when He did, He would move mighty and in a way I could see.
His promises were big and my requests were too. My faith, a match for both.
I laid it out there for Him. It had gone on long enough. My heart knew that if I could pull back the curtain into the unseen, I’d be amazed at all He was doing. Something big was being built, but as Hebrews 12:12 describes, my arms were getting feeble and my knees, weak.
I asked Him for His promise of restoration, His promise of Joel 2:25, to begin that very day. I knew it was going to happen, but please could it start immediately? I didn’t think I had even one more day in me.
It was later that day, my life collapsed.
And that’s when I knew for a fact He’d heard. I could almost see with my eyes His actual Hand in it. This was no coincidence.
I’ve never felt such conflicting emotions.
Awe that the God of the universe had been there. My heart had not lied. I didn’t imagine His presence.
Back then, I operated on a faith in the unseen. Now I all I do stems from an absolute knowledge that He lives and walks with us. Sits on the beach with us.
It was then, I knew, positively knew, that my prayers made it to the throne room. Like incense. (May my prayer be set before you like incense; may the lifting up of my hands be like the evening sacrifice. Psalms 141:2, NIV)
What do you do with that? That was the very first time I knew our God was a personal God. How can anything ever look the same?
Simultaneously, I was faced with this question, how do you celebrate when His gift is washed in grief?
He showed me how it was possible to praise Him through it all. I praised Him from the floor of my closet, in tears, but also in song that came from a depth I didn’t know was in me.
It is when we praise God, we realize the nature of the sea is in us. The thunder of the waves are heard and we know it is Him who stirs the water and calms again.
It was through prayer and praise that I was able to hear it. It was through belief that I was able to see it.
I recall that day, and realize, indeed, I had the nature of the sea in me all along.
You do too.
For God’s gifts and His call are irrevocable. —Romans 11:29, NIV