The Ocean

If I had to pick a single part of nature to be, I would be the ocean. I’m in Florida, I am surrounded by ocean on three sides, so my corner of the world revolves around it.

I am the ocean.

I am happy, like a warm ocean breeze. I am pleasant and peaceful, like gentle waves. I talk and I sing, like the rolling sound of the waves. I make people smile, like a palm tree on a deserted island. I have been called pleasant, peaceful, quiet, friendly. I am like the way you feel when you sit on the beach, watching the waves and listening to the call of a bird. The sand squishes between your toes, you smell the salty breeze. You look out, and you breath happiness.

Like garbage that dots the ocean, sin plagued my heart. Like disease and sickness that can kill any ocean animal, guilt, sin, and pain swim around me. I cannot clean myself, no matter how hard I try to fling this garbage into the shore. Its reeks, deterring anyone that comes near. I am drowning in this turmoil. But, then Jesus comes on His glorious ship, ridding my life of sin and guilt, holding my hand through the pain. He cleans me and takes care of me, never leaving me to fend for myself. These waters have turned crystal clear, revealing the beauty underneath. 

My tears are like the rain, flowing, running, uncontrollable. Like a Remora, clinging to the underbelly of a shark, this sadness clings to me. While going about my day, the sadness lingers, at the back of my mind. In the wee hours of the morning, the rain sprinkles down, hitting my pillow. The gray clouds are like a grumpy day, or a sad feeling, too small to share, but too large to sweep under the rug. Eventually it fades, but with every rain fall that ocean grows. Will it overflow, onto the dry land that is freshly manicured?

Underneath the surface, sea creatures play and dance, swimming around like thoughts in my brain. Some, like dolphins and whales, are brave enough to reach the surface. They jump and leap like beautiful words that I write and say. Some lurk far beneath the surface, waiting to be seen. They glow, lighting up the sea, waiting for life above the surface. Others are monsters, eating and devouring, prepared to take on the world with their teeth. Some are like sea horses, small yet beautiful, dancing around like poems to be written. Others are like octopi and sea turtles, wise and understanding beyond their years. These thoughts circle, beautiful and diverse, like the ocean animals that live in the sea.

Sometimes I am like a storm, with waves crashing, reaching 20 feet high. Flipping over around, destroying boats and rafts. My anger bubbles like foam on the ocean waves. I yell like the thunder that rumbles, my anger written on my face like lightning in the sky. 

I am complex, like the ocean. Just when you think you may know everything about it, something totally knew will let itself be discovered. As you dive deeper and deeper, you realize the vast expanse of my emotions, thoughts, and capabilities. I cannot be placed into a single animal, because I am made in the image of God. I am God’s beautiful creation, one which He bought with His blood. I am His, and He is mine, and there is nothing that can separate us.