The ocean was angry, but probably not at the people standing in the parking lot in front of it with large signs. They said something about the Bible, but I didn’t look any closer because I didn’t want to accidentally make eye-contact. I don’t enjoy discussing God with strangers in parking lots. The ocean doesn’t either. Wind was whipping away their words, sending them up into the sky to be snapped up by the seagulls circling.
Perhaps there is more than one path to God, like there is more than one path to the beach. I picked one, thinking how this was a quick trip—just a short stop off to appease the children, since we were so close. It was the shortest path; it was the shortcut to appeasement.
High tide had taken the beach. It ate it right up like some monster in a Greek myth, but don’t worry, everything will be just fine, because like how the gods put the heroes into the constellations so they would live forever, low tide will come and put the beach right back. Then we can talk about this story all over again six hours after that.
We sat on the seawall. The concrete was luxury compared to the slippery rocks beneath. The ocean was in a rage, throwing things around like a toddler with a tantrum. One wave was tossed here like a stray toy; one wave tossed there like a full juice box.
“Look! It’s snow,” the boy said as he watched the foam from one wave get piled on a little too thick and then take flight in the wind. I stared at the waves rising, and then crashing. There was something satisfying in it, and I couldn’t turn my eyes away.
There has been so much anxiety lately, so many negative feelings coming and going, and staring at those waves, somehow that all seemed fair. Things crash sometimes. And it’s okay.
The children were restless. The shortcut to appeasement had backfired. With no beach, they were so appeased they were ready to leave. I stared on at the waves because somehow, once again, like I always do when I am away too long, I forgot that the ocean is the shortcut to something important.
Shall we call it the shortcut to God? The shortcut to peace, maybe? There is a magician holding out a deck of cards. Pick a card, any card. Pick your path to God.
I'll take the shortcut to the ocean every time.
