Here's to day Two

Well it is now day two of my South African adventure. Everything is slow here, (for the moment) which is pleasant and a nice change of pace from my regular life back in the states. Yesterday I got a tour of Jeffreys Bay, the town I am living in. Driving down the winding roads Jeffreys Bay has its own feel to this quaint surf town hidden away in the nook of South Africa's eastern cape. Although, I have yet to figure out exactly what it is.

But that's not the only thing I have yet to figure out. I have to figure out why I am here. Why on earth did I travel over 9,634 miles across the world to end up on a beach with a population of no more than 8,000 people. Well I suppose I don't have to figure it out, but I would like to. Because the only way to describe the path my mind goes, the weight my heart holds, the sound my soul is playing is: bewildered, muddled, addled, befuddled,disoriented, flummoxed, clueless, discombobulated. It doesn't matter what word you use, they are all the same.

The sea helps calm me in the midst of this confusion though, the sea has always helped to calm me so I suppose it is good I am now living only a few blocks from it. This morning I took a run from my flat down the winding hills to find the water. I felt like Alice in Wonderland, you know, she had no idea where she was or even who she was in that moment, but she decided "Well there is gravity to keep my feet planted on the ground and there is air for me to breathe, I may as well go look around."

Running barefoot on that soft sand you know you aren't in America's mid-west anymore. As I ran this morning there was an overcast coloring the billows that fell upon the white-crested waves of the sea and a southern wind that blew unlike Nebraskan's "I will knock you over" wind - but it blew as if it were a child who was running so hard to you to hug you even faster, because he loved you so much. It blew hard, swarmed you and then gave you a moment to breathe.

You could hear the chords that play the

beat that the South African's march to, sounds of work, sounds of status, sounds of pride whether it be bathed with dignity or indignity. As I ran the open shore line that was stamped with rocks to go out and greet the waves, I ran alone.

I crossed the east side of America, to fly over the Sargasso Sea and the Atlantic Ocean, to rest in Dakar to fly once again the length of Africa's country. And there I stood on the beach, alone, wondering about the land of Antarctica, that lays just on the other side of the water. But I am not alone, I know I will never be lonely. I have songs in my blood that carry the love of the Lord.

You know He understands the waters and how to make fishers of men, our God is a man of the sea. And ultimately I have left everything I know, everyone I know to follow the man and the sea. Knowing confidently that when that moment comes when I wade to deep into these waters that He will rescue me.

So here's to now. Here's to being lost in a whirlwind of confusion, here's to not having a map to life. Here's to surfing the seas, turning something that can kill you into your very own playground. Here's to now. Here's to having a dream, even if you don't know exactly what that dream is, here's to chasing your dreams, even if you don't have a path laid before you. Here's to the acceptance that sometimes you have to wave goodbye, not only to your home and to your safety net, but to yourself. Here's to leaving everything behind to follow the man and the sea.