Fierce Beauty (13 page)

At some point we will all experience our best-laid plans being obliterated in a single moment. An accident, a disease, an addiction, an infidelity, a discovery, a choice—each can exact life-changing consequences. These catastrophic events not only have the potential to ruin us physically, but often and even more damaging, they also can destroy us emotionally. If we’re not prepared, they can damage our faith as well.

At times I’ve been fickle with my passion and devotion. If we’re honest with ourselves, we’ve all had seasons when we valued other things or people more than our Lord. Yet God is true. His love does not diminish when we reject Him. He is faithful forever.

Even when I chose to worship an eating disorder over my eternal King, He never abandoned me. He never shifted, cracked, or moved. His love for me remained just as strong as it had been from the beginning of time. My unfaithfulness to Him did not change, hinder, or diminish His faithfulness to me. He has been and always will be the only immovable truth we will ever know.

Sitting on that boulder up on South Sister, I felt completely assured. If anyone had questioned my safety, I would have answered, “I’ve sat on ledges my whole life. Oh, it’s safe, all right. It’s solid rock; it’s secure. I’ve sat here for years. It was here before me and will be here after me.”

Yet everything in this life is like that rock. The things we value might seem stable, secure, and immovable. A friendship, a marriage, a business deal, a church, a family, a home, a bank account, a reputation can all feel unshakable. Yet they’re all subject to the world’s freeze-and-thaw effects.

All things change but our God: “The L
ORD
is my rock, my fortress, and my savior; my God is my rock, in whom I find protection. He is my shield, the strength of my salvation, and my stronghold, my high tower, my savior, the one who saves me from violence” (2 Samuel 22:2–3). “O L
ORD
God Almighty! Where is there anyone as mighty as you, L
ORD
?
Faithfulness is your very character
” (Psalm 89:8).

Friend, our only hope is Jesus Christ.

He is the same “yesterday, today, and forever” (Hebrews 13:8). He is the
only
constant we will ever know. He doesn’t shift, He doesn’t change, He never crumbles, and He never,
ever
falls.

I wanted to see them face to face, to look into their eyes without fear.

My husband and I, along with nine other passengers in swim gear, rose and fell with the large swells that rolled under our boat. The wind whipped the surface of the Pacific Ocean into peaks of white foam. Waves smashed against our small vessel as we cautiously approached orange buoys that lined the top of the cage floating in the water. With boat, buoys, and cage heaving out of sync, the captain carefully aligned each and quickly lashed everything together.

This man and his seemingly casual manner intrigued me. He was topped with a turbulent crown of wavy red hair. His quick smile was framed by a constellation of freckles that did not stay confined to his cheeks. He was adorned with many tattoos, one of which I recognized as a tuna. Written upon his skin was the tale of a fisherman at heart.

With a wry smile the captain turned and asked, “Who wants to be first?” Troy and I glanced at the others in the boat. They instantly looked down at their feet. My eyes found Troy’s and read his thoughts, which mirrored my own:
This is what we’re here for. Let’s go!
Together we went over the railing and into the cage with all the speed and poise of two clay pigeons at a trapshooting contest. The captain might as well have shouted, “Pull!”

Though the cage looked to be six feet square and about seven feet deep, I was glad that Troy and I were the only two inside it. Because both
of us are large, diving to the bottom for the best viewing was going to be a trick. We apologized in advance for the certainty that we were about to repeatedly kick each other in the head.

Bobbing like a top in the dark, cobalt waters, I fitted my mask and snorkel to my face and gave the crew on the deck a thumbs-up. The cage that held Troy and me was released from the proximal safety of the small boat to float in exotic seas that were several hundred feet deep.

Quickly we drifted away. It wasn’t long before I noticed how big the horizontal spaces were in the cage that surrounded us. The steel bars looked to be about nine inches wide on the sides and nearly twelve inches apart on the floor. Even my big feet had plenty of room to inadvertently slip through. Just the idea of this made my long toes curl into white fists. Without conscious thought my knees slowly rose to draw my feet as close to my torso as flexibility would allow. The upper half of the cage was made of Plexiglas, so it appeared as though nothing separated me from the great deep.

Trying to peer in all directions at once, I was never more aware of the vastness of the sea. Even though the weather was tempestuous, the ocean’s color gradation was not. It was completely pristine. Few times have I seen such a perfect gradation, from the lightest blue all the way to the darkest indigo imaginable.

Because my view bled out equally in all directions into the blue expanse, it felt as if I were in the center of a massive void. Perhaps this is what it would be like to be awake while dreaming. Despite the fact that I’d been tossed about on the surface, once I dove under the waves, each way I turned my mask, I was rewarded with exactly the same flawless, undisturbed panorama.

Like soldiers covering each other, Troy and I bounced around back to back. I tickled his shoulder, and he turned to look at my face. I was amused by what I saw. My 230-pound, six-foot-three-inch man had reduced himself to a sphere roughly the size of a basketball! He was probably thinking the same thing I was. Taking his hand in mine, I squeezed
it in anticipation. He squeezed back and squinted—an expression I recognized as a don’t-flood-your-mask smile.

While bobbing in the cage, I took deep breaths to fill my lungs. Doing so made me more buoyant; I could float like a cork without touching the steel slats that confined me. Looking straight down, I strained to catch any movement, any interruption within the seamless, vast depths beneath me.

Then, like a phantom, a large shadow began to materialize. The dark apparition rose out of the black void below. This was what we’d been waiting for—a shark.

Gliding with unseen wings, the sea predator traversed its environment with fluid grace. As if homing in on a beacon, it purposefully moved toward us. I saw that it was a Galápagos shark, easily distinguished by its large, sickle-shaped tail. It looked to be around eight feet in length.

Swimming in slow arcs, each smaller than the last, the shark circled us like a tetherball winding around a pole. With each pass I could see more beautiful details of this amazing creature.

At first glance the shark appeared gray. But as it swam closer to look at us, we were able to look more closely at it. While dark gray clothed the upper half of the shark’s body, below the snout crest it was nearly white. The tips of its pectoral fins and tail were tinged with a dusky wash that darkened into pure black. Its eyes were small and unblinking. With yellowish gray lenses surrounding vertical pupils, the shark’s eyes had a demonish quality.

Now, as it glided only a few feet away, I saw detailed rows of serrated teeth lining the familiar open-mouthed grimace. The fact that this shark was so large only added to the impact of the moment.

With the lightness of a butterfly, it ran the rim of its snout along the Plexiglas that separated us. I could literally see into its mouth. Like a prisoner placing her palm on the glass that separates her from a visitor, I put my flat hand over the area the shark touched. Though my hand appeared to be only three inches from its eye, the gray creature never
flinched. It only continued to circle inquisitively while staring at me with its unblinking gaze.

Troy rammed me hard from behind with his elbow. I quickly turned and saw that we were not alone. Other sharks were rapidly closing in on nearly every side. Having been so entranced by the one, I didn’t see the others until they were nearly touching our enclosure.

Close to a dozen sharks circled. They darted toward and around the cage in a mesmerizing dance. Wanting a closer look, I took a deep breath and dove to the bottom of the cage. While carefully holding on to the floor slats, I was better able to observe their movements below us. Again and again I dove to the bottom of the cage. I didn’t want to miss a moment of this amazing scene.

Suddenly the attitude of the sharks changed. They seemed to stiffen. In the same instant a prickle ran up my neck. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and turned. The new arrival was only inches from me and utterly enormous!

This marauder of the deep was several feet longer than any of the other suitors, with an equally impressive girth. I knew she had to be a female because of her bulk. She appeared slightly lighter gray than the others, perhaps because she was just so huge. I watched her propel herself with strong, graceful strokes of her crescent tail. The newly arrived shark’s massive size and direct movements commanded the other sharks to retreat. And they did.

Drawn by intense curiosity, this gargantuan beast soared around us several times before casually testing our Plexiglas enclosure with intentional bumps of her long, rounded snout. The shark’s gaping mouth framed with spiny teeth was the very picture of pure annihilation for anything that ventured out of our protective shelter.

I could hear the voice of our captain echoing in my ears: “Don’t put anything outside the cage that you want to keep! These sharks are coming to look for a meal. They’re intending to feed themselves. Don’t reach out of the cage, or you could become part of their breakfast!”

I watched the giant shark glide around me and doubted I’d ever been more aware or more appreciative of a safe place to abide in. Believe me when I say there was nowhere in the water I’d have rather been at that moment. Without instruction, debate, or convincing, this space was where I wanted to reside. Of
course
I was going to stay in the cage!

I tried to imagine what I would feel like if I were somehow suddenly washed out of our protective position. The pitch and roll of our enclosure was violent at times. More than once I was slammed against the bars. Would I still be so euphoric and unafraid if I was outside this zone of security?

Even while dangling like bait in a box, I felt only absolute awe, because I trusted the glass and metal cage around me. I could hardly believe I was actually getting to do this! I was in the Pacific, I was safe, and I was surrounded by an entire league of gigantic, saw-toothed predators.

Slowly I realized that it didn’t matter what swam around me or how ferocious they were or even how many there were. As long as I abided in this safe place, I could swim through anything.

I should have been terrified, but I wasn’t. I was completely at peace.

God is so good to reveal Himself, whether it’s through His Word, in church, or with a shark cage in the Pacific Ocean. When we’re
in
Christ, it’s as if we’re inside the invisible safety of a Plexiglas box. We can swim among giant “sharks” and have complete peace. When we’re
not
in Christ, we’re not in a safe place. Then swimming among giant sharks is terrifying because one of them could destroy us at any moment.

Since we know this, why do we believers keep climbing out of Christ’s protective place?

Friend, when we’re in Christ, we will have perfect peace … no matter what monsters, what storms, what darkness surrounds us. He cannot be moved, and when we place our lives inside His,
neither can we
.

His peace is not circumstantial. It doesn’t come from those things on the outside that surround us. His peace comes from within; it comes from Jesus being inside us. Scripture says, “His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live
in
Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:7). If we’re finding our peace in Christ, nothing in this life can take it away—period!

Since this is true, why do we Christians suffer from bouts of anxiety, depression, and fear? Why are such vast numbers mired in negativity? Maybe it’s because our focus really isn’t “in” Christ. Perhaps we’ve placed our trust and hopes for peace in a husband, a job, a friend, a look, an ability, a bank account, a family member, a title, a boyfriend, a thing. Any of these entities, when placed in a higher position than God, becomes more than just a distraction from truth; it becomes our
idol
. When it wavers or collapses, so does the sense of peace we fostered through it.

When will we realize that where fear exists, peace cannot?

Someone much wiser than I once said, “Either Christ is Lord
of
all … or He isn’t Lord
at
all.”

When we continually jump in and out of the peace of God, it’s the equivalent of playing spiritual Hokey Pokey. He doesn’t want us to put our trust in Him and then take our trust out. Or put our trust in Him and shake it all about. Believe me, this
isn’t
what it’s all about! He’d rather we just put our hearts in … and keep them in, because it’s when we
abide in
Him that His authentic peace within us grows.