Here I was this morning, stillness, quietness as I walked down this path, looking at the trees. Suddenly, I’m at the ocean’s edge, overlooking the waves crashing against the rocks, the sea where the tide rolls back and forth, the sea where I look across and see others traveling to a distant land, that we may one day gather around the table with more people.
And I’m asking myself the same question that others have asked me, “How do you hold it all?”
I keep seeing those waves, feeling the ocean breeze, and as I stand there, I breathe in the ocean sea and take in a deep sigh. The waves, they pound against rocks, the white foam gushing forth, and I’m there, watching it all happen.
So the question is still there, “How do we hold it all?”
How to we hold the transition and the change, and the goodbyes and the memories, how do we hold the cost, how do we hold the joy unspeakable? How do we hold the unknowns and the knowns, the ordinary and the extraordinary, the treasure in a jar of clay?
We stand there and we breathe, we behold, and we take it all in. And we offer what we have to the One who offered it all. We lose our lives to really find them. We love because we have been shown love by Love itself, the One who gave His very Son, that we might be His, forgiven and free.
We continue to say “yes” to holding both the hard and the good, because He already did. He said yes to us.
And so here I stand, at the sea’s edge, taking it all in, wind rushing with an ocean breeze, heart open and alive, arms wide, in adoration and praise to the One who created the very ocean and walked on water. I stand and I look out, and I hold the memories of this fall term at CIT.