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| Just like the calm periods of our lives, a peaceful sea can belie threats and dangers that await us. |
While visiting
the coastal town of Yachats, Oregon, this past summer, I took an afternoon stroll
along a bluff. On that walk, the bright sun warmed my face, and the wind blew
just enough to rustle the fronds of sea grasses. To the west, the Pacific
Ocean undulated in gentle swells and sent up delicate sprays of foam when it met with the
rocks below. All the elements that day combined to produce feelings of peace
and gratitude and safety. Then I came upon a plaque that cautioned me to beware
the sneaker waves.
People who live
along the west coast are most likely familiar with the term sneaker wave—a rogue wave which appears out of nowhere and strikes with great force. If you’re combing the
beach, the wave can steal the sand right from under your feet. If you’re
standing on a massive rock, observing sea life in a tide pool, it can attack
and sweep you out to sea in the blink of an eye. Particularly alarming, these
waves come at times when least expected, at times when the sea—at her charming
best—lulls you into a blissful sense of security.
The plaque I happened
on that day was a memorial to two young victims of sneaker waves and a caution of the perils they present. After I read it, I continued on my
walk, my thoughts occupied with the sneaker waves of life—those events that
shake our emotional foundations or knock us from them with devastating force. Events
such as the death of a beloved partner or child, the diagnosis of a disease for
which there is no cure, a divorce that leaves one shattered. Events that come
with no sign or warning and often in the happiest, calmest periods of life.
Since that day,
I’ve revisited the idea of sneaker waves from time to time and considered what
I might say about them in a post. The death of a dear friend this past week prompted me to finally put words to my thoughts.
Patsy was really
more family than friend. She was my daughter’s mother-in-law, my son-in-law’s
mother, my grandsons’ “Mamaw.” I didn’t see her often, as she lived in a
different state, but I always felt a strong connection to her because of our
mutual love for the people in our lives.
I couldn’t have asked for a finer person to share my daughter with or a
more devoted grandmother for my grandchildren. I will deeply miss
“co-grandparenting” with her. My heart grieves for all the family members and
friends who will miss her gentle and caring spirit.
Almost two years
ago, Patsy was hit by a sneaker wave—a diagnosis of cancer. While this news
no doubt shook her world, it didn’t defeat her. She battled the disease with
faith and courage. Then a few weeks ago, a second wave hit. Her chemo wasn’t
working. The doctors were out of ideas.
The plaque I
encountered on my walk last summer offers not only warnings but also
suggestions. Among them: Respect the
immense power of the ocean. An unwavering Christian whose faith radiated in
all that she did, Patsy knew another “immense Power” and drew on it throughout
her life. Our time on Earth can be slippery and tenuous, but the other Power
that Patsy knew offers a rock solid footing. So while the final sneaker wave
Patsy encountered was frightening and sad, it wasn’t devastating. She faced it
with the hope and assurance of a Firm Foundation.
