Learning to surf is a challenging task. I watched the waves crash into the shore repeatedly, mesmerized by the cadence as specs floated in the distance. People were waiting for just the right wave. This beach was one of the most renowned in the world for surfing.
I was in El Salvador for a week-long mission trip. The gravel, rocky road we walked up and down a half mile from the pavement to our “home” was pitted and broken from the torrential downpours of rain that came almost daily. The road was in such poor condition we broke our van on that road! One day a group of Australian guys showed up looking for directions to the surfing place. It was right next door to our Missions compound. It was so fun to watch them all surf.
The air was so humid you were drenched from a combination of sweat and the thickness of the moisture that clung all around you. It was an excellent, heavy dew point with a temperature of close to 80 degrees when you awakened, and it grew more sticky as the day progressed. The jungle shade was a relief, like any time spent in the small pool or the ocean.
The ocean. The black sand beach is so exotic and yet dirty looking. We had no hot water. The water had to be hauled to a reservoir for any use. So you lathered and shut it off. Water was a privilege. I learned quickly to shower at night, which was a relief instead of a shock. The sand from the beach never really left you, though. It was stuck in your scalp, your suit, your nails.
A few local guides with us tried to teach us how to surf. I settled for laying flat on the board and riding the waves back to shore. It was so much fun! What no one ever talks about is the power of the waves.
Coming from the Midwest, this was my first time seeing the Pacific Ocean and my first time being in the Ocean. I found it mysterious, breathtaking, serene, intimidating at times, and yet so calming. The waves were so loud, they were our lullaby to sleep at night.
Besides sitting and observing the surfing, my favorite activity in the ocean was wave jumping. I watched the waves coming and waited for just the right moment to jump. If you time it right, you land above the peak. The braver we got, the deeper we’d go. Soon, I was thigh-deep, and a giant wave came, and my feet left the ground, fully submerged. I felt myself spinning underwater. I didn’t know which way was up. I realized I would find the ground if I stopped struggling and just put my feet down. I did.
Then I saw the light
I sprang up, coughing and spewing saltwater. Not fun. I was thoroughly drenched and full of black sand from head to toe! And what’s more humiliating, the water was so powerful the top of my swimsuit had come down. I was mortified! We all had a great laugh. I’m pretty sure it was just the ladies who were around and saw my ladies (at least none of the guys admitted to it.)
Sometimes life is like this. We find ourselves in situations for the first time. A new job; becoming a parent. A new relationship. Getting married. All good, even great things. It’s overwhelming and beautiful. It’s mysterious, and sometimes it can take your breath away and be so exciting. You go all in.
Then there’s a moment—a period of time. The waves crash over you again and again. You find yourself in over your head and spinning in circles, not knowing which way is up. You are struggling for air. You want to cry out for help, but maybe you don’t know who you can count on because people have constantly failed you. Or maybe you're the kind of person who has never shown emotions and just “toughed” everything out because you were taught to be that since childhood.
But then, there comes a moment when you have to realize you cannot keep struggling on your own.
Put your feet down and look up
The light will draw near, and you can breathe again. You will rise stronger. Wiser. You will be able to look back at where you once were, drowning, and grateful for how far you’ve come.
