The ocean pulls the shallow back into the deep. Waves crash into waves and roll up on the shore before turning into foam. Suds carry bits of sand with it as it returns to the sea.
I sit in awe of God’s meticulous creativity.
The water gathers itself over and over. Second after second, it pushes and pulls, yet it respects its boundaries. The only time the ocean crosses the line is during a hurricane. But even still, it returns—it remembers its place.
In this moment, I am assured that my daughter will return. She will remember her place.
Leave a Reply