She Marveled at the Beauty — His Grace Abounds

She marveled at the beauty. The sunlight was bright and penetrating, only occasionally interrupted by a passing cloud. Even then, the shadows cast on the clear blue water, with waves gently rolling, were a sight to behold. She sat motionless in the sand, arms resting comfortably on her knees, her board by her side. It was just her. Not a soul nearby. Completely alone in her thoughts.

Surfing had been her life since childhood. She’d learned the ways of the waves. When to paddle. The moment to transition from lying on the board to bouncing to her feet, positioned just so. Balance was so important. When to lean. When to sway. When to abandon and catch the next one. A wipe-out was ok, even fun. There would be another wave. It was so much easier then.

She remembered. It had never been better than when he was with her. They surfed together. Always. They lived life together. Always. Wiped out together. Rode the monster waves together. Laughed together. Caught the next wave together. Until.

She remembered. She remembered not caring if she ever got on the board again. Nothing mattered. Every day was a wipe-out! She remembered not seeing the beauty she was seeing on this morning. It had taken some time to feel what she knew would be his thoughts, his counsel, his voice in the silent space of her heart.

“You gotta get up,” he said. She remembered wanting to scream out. “I can’t!” “I won’t!” There’s no fun in any of it!”

She remembered what he said next. “But they're out there, babe. The waves. They’re out there. They’re not gonna stop rolling in. You can’t avoid ‘em, babe. And, babe, there’s still beauty in ‘em. Go find that beauty. You can do this. Take me with you.”

She remembered. It had taken weeks before she would even set her bare feet in the sand. Weeks more before she would sit and look out at the world she’d loved so much. The world she had shared with him. Weeks more before she had the strength to carry her board. Even more weeks before she would venture out and paddle slowly to the crest. She remembered wanting to turn back to the way it had been.

She remembered hearing his voice. “Take the next one, babe. You got this!” So she tried. At least she thought she had tried. Unstable. Unsure. Uncommitted. The first one was a wipeout. So were the second and the third. She screamed and pounded the water with her open hands, palms down.

She heard his voice again. “Don’t give up. Don’t give in. Just know that on this next one, you will carry me with you on the way to the shore. I want you to do that, babe. Take me with you on the next one.”

She remembered. With tears in her eyes and pursed lips, she had paddled out once more. She had waited for the wave she knew he would take. She had taken that one because she knew he was on her board with her. She felt him in her body, in her mind, and in her heart. She maneuvered the board, deftly. Diving. Darting. Rising. Gliding. She had made it. With him. It would be so forever.

She remembered each day from then until this one. She sat motionless, looking out to the world that had always been hers and his. Beads of water on her arms and legs slowly evaporated under the sun’s rays. Some days, the waves were much higher and harder. Some days she’d wipe out again and get so frustrated. She’d slap the water in her rage. But then new days would come, and she’d ride the waves with a peace and joy that was hard to understand. But on each and every ride, good or bad, she knew that he was on her board with her, in her, sharing. There would always be waves. But no matter what tomorrow would bring, she thought, he would be there. Just like always. His voice, his experience, his essence would all be there, showing themselves in new and old and familiar ways.

She marveled at the beauty.