Driftwood Moments: The Voice Of God In Times of Disruption

I love stability, or at the every least predictability. Change is ok, as long as it happens on my terms. But life is not nearly that simple. Accidents happen, jobs come and go, relationships wax and wane. Looking back, I can identify many of these “driftwood moments”, times when I find myself swept up by the current of circumstance and deposited on a beach I did not choose. There is nothing quite so humbling, or quite so human, as realizing I am not in control. Every change is a mini death, something I knew or counted on has passed away.

But every change is also a birth, where something else begins. Jesus recognized both the pain and hope of change when he said, “I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat is planted in the soil and dies, it remains alone. But its death will produce many new kernels—a plentiful harvest of new lives” (John‬ ‭12‬:‭24‬ ‭NLT‬‬).

And God offers us more than just a future where everything will be better, he promises to be personally with us in the middle of darkness, loss, and transition. The Jewish prophet Isaiah spoke these words to his countrymen in exile, and Christians believe this passage speaks to the God’s faithfulness, “When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown...” (Isaiah‬ ‭43‬:‭2‬ ‭NLT‬‬).

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Ultimately, every moment of change carries with it this promise, ““And the one sitting on the throne said, “Look, I am making everything new! ”” (‭‭Revelation‬ ‭21‬:‭5‬ ‭NLT‬‬).

Below is a poem I wrote during a walk on the beach. It encouraged my heart, and I hope it does the same for you.

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Driftwood Calling

Oh dear God 

How did I get here? 

Only a few moments ago 

I touched the heavens,

Heavy with leaves

As thick as the feathers

On the little gull who walks beside me,

Picking crustaceans from my skin.

My roots were anchored in bedrock -

They tied their boats to me.

To me! 

Because I did not fear the ocean.

But one steamy afternoon

You exhaled from the west,

Your hand clapped the sea,

And the world became unmoored.

I had no time to pack

For my seaward journey.

The waves that once

Steered around me

Wrapped greedy arms 

Around my soul.

I shed my crowns in bunches

Lest the great sea seize them

And pull me down.

My tiny branches too

Had to break away

For my own survival -

Pruned to my core.

And so I travelled,

A remnant  of my former self,

In an ocean so much more vast

Than my perfect former world.

I traded soil for sea,

Sky for waves,

Permanence for motion,

Stability for buoyancy ,

The grand unknown

For all I once knew.

Suspended over the infinite deep

By a force within

My finite self,

I gazed into the abyss

With no need to fear it.

And now I am here,

After God knows how long,

On the beach in God knows where,

Wondering if God knows

Where I will be next.

I do not know if I have died

Or if I have been born

I hear the little bird whisper

Over the laughter of the waves

“Both,” he said.

This was the voice of God.