Faith

An Unexpected Lesson from the Shore

May 31, 2026

Hello from a third-story balcony along the Florida coast. Grass dunes dissolve into white sand that feels untouched, as if with one snap of God’s holy fingers, He made this spot just this morning…

This beach is quietly private. Not stuck up. Not pretentious. Just really beautiful. There are boundary lines, one on each side of us, indicators that we belong in between. They show that the eighteen families here can do whatever we want, as long as we don’t cross the boundaries set for us. Right now, that looks like a young boy playing baseball with his dad, a family throwing a frisbee and a fisherman who’s been here since sunrise.

I’ve been fortunate enough to travel all across the world. With every trip, especially to the sea, I’ve reveled in the waves breaking before me: the expanse, the hues of blues and greens, and the never-ending tides that carry salt and water and marine life in and out.

This morning, though, I’m focused on the boundaries. I think of that verse from Jeremiah:

“Should you not fear me?” declares the Lord. “Should you not tremble in my presence? I made the sand a boundary for the sea, an everlasting barrier it cannot cross. The waves may roll, but they cannot prevail; they may roar, but they cannot cross it.”

And so today, I marvel at the sea, but I respect its boundary. The waves are no less beautiful because they are held back. Their power is not diminished by the sand; in some mysterious way, it is revealed by it. Maybe the same is true of us. Maybe the boundaries God sets are not evidence of His withholding, but of His mercy. The line in the sand is not always a warning. Sometimes, it is a kindness. I’m learning that, with all things wild and powerful, limits are necessary.

May 31, 2026 | Faith