The Sea was old and wise. It had listened to countless conversations throughout the ages—had seen much of men, both virtue and vice—for it had lived 10,000 lifetimes and known too many men to count. It had brought some eternally home to the arms of a waiting Father, and delivered many more to The Place with No Rest. It was old. And wise.
From the time it was born, it knew the Creator. He gave it form—took its substance and made it a sea. Once nothing more than existing water, God made land to give it a home, an identity, and a purpose. He made fish and coral and whales—everything beautiful to live in it—and the Sea loved it. It loved the opalescent hues and the sparkling sunlight, and the soft glow of the moon when all was quiet. It loved to run up and down the sandy shores, playing with the children and drawing men’s hearts to peace. It loved to swell up with laughter and joy and awe of the Creator, then crash down with a shout of praise. It couldn’t help it! The Sea loved the Creator, and in all its surging and power, reflected his majesty.
It knew humanity too. The ones who were always searching, but were themselves lost. Many pursued wealth, honor, and power. There had been so much bloodshed, so many wars. In the end, the hands of men were empty. They didn’t find what they were looking for. Others sought the love of another, or set out to “find themselves.” The Sea thought this was very strange. After all, How can someone who’s lost give themselves direction? It made no sense. Men used all kinds of tools and gimmicks for help - books, gadgets, gurus, religion—everything short of seeking the one they needed. After losing their connection with the Creator in the First Garden, the Sea had watched them aimlessly wander for centuries, devoid of purpose and meaning.
The Son had already come to lead them home, back to their connection with the Father, but few chose to follow him. They wallowed in darkness, in nothingness, and preferred instead to endlessly ask, “What am I for? Why am I here?”
But the Sea knew, because it was old. It was there from The Beginning. God had set its boundaries in place and given it life. And it was wise. It had learned from men the heartache and ruin of those who don’t know the Creator, and the wonder of those who do, and it hoped in some small way that men would see in it a glimpse of the Father, and long to know him again.
