Turn of Perspective

Deborah Lewis

img_7155Unaccustomed to the cold, extra layers are in order. You don the required exercise garb with the addition of bulky extras for your protection due to your thin blood. You reach the beach and notice the swift, relentless ocean current, the white water cresting backward from the crashing waves. You choose the direction requiring the payment upfront. Your initial route will hurl you headfirst into the punishing wind. You affix the scarf clumsily around your face. It doesn’t stay in place. The frigid air presses into every piece of exposed skin. As far as your eyes can see, you view only one, solitary soul. You wonder if this was a good idea? As you continue the trek forward, two thoughts consume your mind: What is the goal? What is the plan to reach it?

You reach your marker and make the turn. Instantaneously, the conditions improve. The beauty unravels now that the proper channels for interpretation are available. The day is a brilliant, sun-soaked wonderment. The rays reflect off the Atlantic dancing in wide swathes of shimmering beauty. The sea foam forms shapes like misshapen cookies as it joins with the  water. Seagulls call and scatter at your approach, flapping wings,  taking flight in varying directions.  One, with a damaged foot, hops to escape your approaching commotion. Your heart fills. You are so happy for this run. Under the layers you can now recognize the damp evidences signaling perspiration. You arrive at the beach access which is the desired finish line. And still you wonder, “How can both of those experiences occur over the same expanse of sand?”

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Published by Deborah Lewis

Don't ever give in. Don't ever quit. Don't ever surrender. What gives me the right to say that? Mountains of impossibility that I have walked through: 6 1/2 years of infertility, an adoption that did not go through, two seasons of helping raise other people's children, a miscarriage, paid back every cent of 85K of debt, crisis pregnancy, raising a special needs daughter, the death of that daughter, divorce etc... With every challenge came real wounds, but something else in juxtaposition to the scars: wisdom, and treasure. Real riches found on very broken paths. Some of my closest friends have caught my tears big, wet, snotting up, warm tears, but they have also "seen" the gifts acquired along the way. They have experienced hope in hopeless situations. They have gleaned tenacity in unbearable circumstance. And to be VERY CLEAR this is not because I am strong, very much the opposite. I KNOW how weak I am. Don't give up. Don't give in. Don't surrender. "For we have no power to face this vast army that is attacking us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on You." 2Chron 20:12. My mom would say, "Shoulders back, chest out!" I would add to that, fix your eyes on the only One who declares, "You are more that a conqueror!"

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