I am no rock

 
"Remember the rock from which you are carved....."
 
There is a tidal pool in the Cape Columbine Nature Reserve (more commonly known as "Tietiesbaai" - "Bay of Tits" - directly translated and very typically South-African named) close to Paternoster on the West Coast of South Africa, with crystal clear water - shining in the bright summer sun. It lies (that is the tidal pool now!) carved in a patch of huge rocks somewhere on the dry and - in many places - desolate landscape of the broken coastline running down from Namibia southwards towards Cape Town.
 
It is here where you can experience the majesty of the high seas as it rolls from the depths of the Atlantic and shatters in thunderous crash against the solid formations of rock that rise like giant statues from the earth and against the canvas of dark ocean and blue sky.
 
On a calm, sunny day it seems as though God - out of curiosity - playfully has touched the rock with His finger and it opened up a little hollow that came to life through the coming and going of tides, filling it with water and colorful little sea creatures like rock-& starfish, mussels & limpets, sea cucumbers - and anemones.
 
Come the fierce winter storms with its forceful gusts of Westerly winds and rain relentlessly beating down along with walls of roaring and rolling waves whipping the shoreline, you realize millenia of season's activity altogether scourged a hole in the rock as if hit by a single shot ripping right through, leaving a gaping wound like in a soft, fleshy belly from which life slowly flows.... Soon the troubled water turns turbid, infected and diseased by debris, left by a drawn and drowsy sea, rotting away in the warm winter sun, smelling of carbon. And so the sure cycle of life starts again.
 
While still on the West Coast, I often have escaped from the buzzing business of work within the congregation and doing harbour mission work on the huge iron ore ships and gigantic oil tankers, to come to this place for solace & solitude. The first year I have spend on the West Coast, I came here for my birthday. I entered at the gate where I greeted the caretaker. Further along, the reserve was totally empty - what bliss! There was not a single soul in sight. Not even at the little bay where it could get quite crowded with campers during the summer holidays.
 
I took the upper arm of the sandy circular route around the light tower - a pinnacle of hope for ships seemingly lost at sea along a shore where the cold current often concocts clouds of thick fog covering the coast, hiding it from sight altogether. On nights when the mist move mysteriously from cold water to warm land, the flashing light cuts through it as though a Jedi sword's laser beam. Occasionally the very quiet of these nights are broken by the hooting of ship horns - now close, then in a distant, calling and answering....
 
When I came to the little bay, I stopped, got out of the car and walked towards it. If you go around to its left side, you come to a flat plate amidst the formidable formation of rocks that amazingly takes you to the edge of the deep water. Waves breaking here are not at all like the foamy rollers splashing softly on the sandy shores of the beach front. Walls of water to a metre and sometimes even higher speed toward you, then suddenly towering right in front of you, leaving you stoned as if part of the rocks on which you stand - both in fear and awe!
 
For a moment I thought I would be swept off my feet and tossed into the ocean like a rag doll as the wave exploded against the rock's edge. But the rock remained solid, unmoved. It stopped the force of the mountain of water in motion in its tracks. As the water splashed around me and feather like foam and sears of seaweed and kelp came showering down on me, I sat down in shivering shock! Yet I also have been left with the wonder of the moment, a deep realization of the power of nature and our helplessness in the face of it. Deeper still remained the thought that I escaped unscathed - except though for being emotionally immensely touched....
 
           ....Deep down I am trying to hold on to the feeling of being immensely touched and keep on searching for the same thought of escaping unscathed to come to mind as I find myself but a rag doll in the face of life's turbulent waters! I can only have hope that it is yet a moment's thinking having me being swept off my feet and tossed into life's deep, dark ocean, for I am swamped by the sensation of falling....
 
Should the moment pass, I trust to still be on the unmoved, solid Rock.
 
How do I find myself at the edge of life's deep water roaring and raging down below? Have I been driven here by fear or did I come out of curiosity? Or a bit of both? I look back to see, but the road is covered with clouds of thick fog. Surely there should be a Light Tower somewhere signaling? Do I see a beam of light on the horizon? Don't I hear a ships' horn sounding in a distance, calling.... I want to answer, but my call find no voice.

Solitude has always been my sharing time with God. Now I find myself lost in loneliness. Deep down my innermost being knows He is with me, yet my stoned heart can not in longing reach for Him as I would have wanted it to....
 
I seem lost in one of the worst winter storms of my life. Gusts of life's ghastly winds keep whipping the shoreline of my soul. Tempestuous seas beat relentlessly against the the foundations of my innermost being, shattering it to the core. As if by a single shot, a hole has been ripped through my whole life, leaving but a gaping wound, turning turbid, filled with debris, rotting away....
 
I can only await the tides of time now to gently wash away the forwarded filth, cleaning and clearing the pool for new life to grow, bringing forth colorful little creatures, giving hours of interest and pleasure to whomever find themselves by its side.
 
When I am getting through this, hopefully it would not be the tracks of the tides and storms remaining, but a clear little tidal pool full of life newly created by God through grace.
 
I am not a formidable formation nor a solid rock. I never have been or ever will be. I am being carved though....