Faith That Doesn't Panic at Low Tide
Based on Ecclesiastes 3, Psalm 42, 1 Kings 19
Once we have learned to stay anchored, another question rises to
meet us.
Not what keeps me from drifting?
But does the low tide mean He has left?
Life is not linear. It breathes. Joy. Grief. Closeness. Distance.
Activity. Rest. We have learned to trust the shore beneath us and to follow the
horizon ahead of us and to stay anchored within the storm. But none of that
quite prepares us for the moment the water itself seems to withdraw.
This is the shift from stability to rhythm.
From does it hold to does it return.
I. The Sea Was Never Meant to Stay High
Every shore keeps a tide line, a pale ridge of sand and shell
marking how far the water has reached before. It is evidence the sea was here.
It is also evidence the sea will be here again.
Low tide is not the sea failing to show up. It is the sea keeping
a promise on a different clock than the one we're watching.
We tend to panic at the ebb because we have quietly mistaken the
high tide for the norm and the low tide for the exception. Scripture never
makes that mistake. Both are the pattern.
And here the tide teaches something the anchor could not. We often
confuse rhythm with inconsistency. But rhythm is not inconsistency. It is
faithfulness expressed over time. Nothing on earth is more predictable than a
tide, and nothing on earth changes more constantly. The two are not in tension.
They are the same fact, seen from two different distances.
II. A Time for Everything
"There is a time for everything, and a season for every
activity under the heavens... a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to
mourn and a time to dance." (Ecclesiastes 3:1,4)
Notice what the Preacher does not do. He does not apologize for
the list. He does not rank the seasons, placing dancing above mourning as
though one were the goal and the other merely the cost of getting there.
Winter receives no less dignity than harvest.
A faith that only recognizes God in the rising water has not yet
learned to read the whole tide chart. The Preacher already had. He had watched
enough seasons turn to know that the turning itself was not the tragedy.
III. Deep Calls to Deep
"Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls; all your
waves and breakers have swept over me." (Psalm 42:7)
This is the Bible's most honest tide poem.
The psalmist is not writing from the shore, admiring the water
from a safe distance. He is in it — tears for food, memory as an ache, the low
tide fully upon him. And still, in the very next breath: "By day the
Lord directs his love, at night his song is with me." (Psalm 42:8)
The psalm does not resolve the ebb. It sings through it.
That is worth noticing closely, because it is not the same as
pretending the ebb isn't happening. The psalmist names his own soul out loud — "Why,
my soul, are you downcast?" — and answers not with an explanation but
with a redirection: "Put your hope in God." He does not talk
himself out of the low tide. He simply refuses to let it have the last word.
IV. The Whisper After the Fire
Elijah had just seen fire fall from heaven.
Carmel was his highest tide: prophets of Baal defeated, the nation
watching, God unmistakably present in front of everyone. And then, within a
single chapter, he is running for his life, collapsed under a broom tree,
asking God to let him die.
High tide. Then collapse.
Notice what God does not do. He does not rebuke the crash. He does
not remind Elijah of the fire he just witnessed, as though gratitude could talk
him out of exhaustion. He lets him sleep. He feeds him. Twice. Only then does
He lead him to the mountain.
"The Lord was not in the wind... the Lord was not in the
earthquake... the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle
whisper." (1 Kings 19:11-12)
The whisper does not arrive at the high tide. It arrives after it:
in the exhaustion, in the silence, in the very low water where Elijah assumed
God had gone.
The low tide was not a detour from Elijah's calling. It was where
his calling was fed, rested, and quietly renewed.
V. What the Tide Teaches Us
Session 3 taught us that hidden things hold us. Session 4 asks
something a little different.
Not everything God gives us is an object. Sometimes He gives us a
pattern.
The anchor is something we cling to. The tide is something we
learn to trust. One teaches us stability. The other teaches us how to live
faithfully within time, trusting that the water, however far it withdraws,
still keeps its ancient rhythm.
We are remarkably quick to measure God's nearness by our own
experience of Him. When the water rises, we call Him faithful. When it recedes,
we wonder whether He has gone somewhere else. But the shoreline has never
mistaken the tide for the sea. It knows the water still belongs to it even when
it has pulled back beyond the sand we can see. Faith slowly learns to make the
same distinction. God's presence is deeper than our perception of it.
Faith matures when it stops grading God's presence by the height
of the water.
That's what the tide has always known, long before we did.
The tide that goes out has never once forgotten how to return.
VI. Standing at Your Tide
Where are you right now: coming in, or going out? Both are
allowed to be named honestly, without shame and without alarm.
Perhaps the question is not, "Why did the water leave?"
Perhaps it is, "What does this season make possible that high tide could
not?"
Elijah was not fed and rested during the fire. He was fed and
rested during the ebb, because that is where rest becomes necessary, and
possible.
Storms reveal anchors. Tides teach patience.
And so, before you go, receive this as a blessing rather than a
sixth movement:
"Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for
his compassions never fail. They are new every morning."
(Lamentations 3:22-23)
Not always high water.
Always the same sea.
Practicing the Presence of God at the Tide This Week
- Name
your tide. Are you in a season of closeness or distance right now? Say
it plainly, without judging it.
- Read
the tide chart backward. Recall a past low tide that returned to
high. Let it recalibrate what you expect from this one.
- Resist
the panic narrative. Where have you assumed absence in a
season Scripture would simply call rhythm?
- Rest
during the ebb. What might this low season be making
possible that a high season could not?
- Watch
for the turn. Tides always change. Stay alert rather
than despairing.
Continue Walking the Shoreline
The Shoreline Series: Faith at the Edge is a
weekly devotional exploring the places where God meets us between endings and
beginnings, certainty and mystery, grief and hope.
The Journey So Far:
Session 1: The Shoreline Where Life Meets God
Session 2: Following the Horizon
Session 3: The Anchor Beneath the Surface
Session 4: Learning the Tide (You are here)
If something here resonated, you may also enjoy:
The Place In Between Where Life Still Meets You
The Fifth Season: When Closure Never Comes But Clarity Does
Before Resurrection Was Recognized
No comments:
Post a Comment