I prefer the lake to be “glass”. You know, the early morning mirror look that can only happen when there is not even a breath of air to create the tiniest ripples on the surface of the water. I’m a waterskier, so it make sense I would prefer the water smooth. I want to the be the one to make the ripples, to disturb the peace, to slice through the surface, and I’d just as soon the wind not interfere. My adrenaline wants to surge just thinking about it.
It’s still winter, but the sun made a glorious appearance in a bright blue sky today. The warmth of a Saturday afternoon drew me to the lake. The same south wind that brought a warm day blew the water into a frenzy. The whitecaps pounding the shore rivaled the beach at low tide. Even if it had been warm enough to ski and I had access to a boat, I wouldn’t have attempted it today. Water like that is a beating on a ski. It’s only pretty to watch from a distance. I’m a smooth water snob.
The same holds true of my life. I prefer to not deal with wind and waves. They hurt. They knock me down. They’re a beating.
The smoothest bodies of water on the planet rarely look like water. Stagnant surfaces collect and grow a variety of scum that wouldn’t be there if the surface were to be stirred every so often. That’s not exactly the fruit I want to produce with my life.
Interesting to note in John 5 that healing occurred when the waters of the pool of Bethesda were stirred, not when they were calm.
The waves can be beneficial. I’ve always wanted to learn to surf.
Author’s note: I wrote this for a previous blog. If you followed that blog, you may feel a sense of deja vu. Don’t be concerned. This is a re-run.