The fast and the furious

Saturday night Burton and I had a disagreement. We had planned to go the beach on Sunday, and were trying to decide what beach to go to. By a long shot my favorite beach on the island is Half moon Bay. It is a wide empty beach without a reef to break the waves, so they roll into shore about 6 or 8 feet high and when they crash the spray goes forever. The wind is so strong it kicks up the sand and its impossible to read or sleep. The wind howls. If you venture into the water you will be turned upside down by the waves and thrown into the ground like a matchstick. I had climbed onto rocks on the sides of the beach and when the waves hit the bottom and spray up 10 meters or so, you get soaked. It is wild and glorious and fierce and it’s like standing in the middle of a hurricane.
Burton likes Turner beach. It is in a little bay and is calm with gentle waves lapping at the shore. The water is clear and you can snorkel, or lay in the sun with palm trees above you and read or sleep. It is peaceful and still and is like sitting in a quiet garden.
We had a fundamental clash of personalities and the argument finally ended with me agreeing to go to Turner beach.
The beach was so beautiful it took my breath away. I lay in the sun and read, and swam in the clear water, and tried snorkeling for the first time. Under the water it was like a whole new world. I saw little blue and yellow fish, striped clown fish, long skinny silver ones, fat white ones, crabs and corals and beautiful seaweed. I could have stayed under there all day.
Then I was walking along the beach and saw a little gaff-rigged sailboat. I found the owner and offered him $10 to let me take it out. We pushed it out with Burton at the rudder. Out from shore it was gusty and there was a stiff breeze and pretty soon we were scooting along the waves with a spray coming up. Burton hadn’t really sailed before and was a bit nervous and was trying to keep the boat flat and kept steering into the wind to slow down. I think the best part of sailing is at the fastest speed, getting soaked by the spray and hiked out as far as possible. So I was pulling in the sail as tight as it would go and shouting for Burton to steer right. To make a long story short, the sail ended with us shouting at each other and turning on a jibe and the boat capsizing and Burton falling off and electing to swim back to shore rather than sail with me.

But I had a scripture shared with me on Sunday. I Kings 19:11-13 is the story of Elijah hearing God speak.
“The Lord said, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by." Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. Then a voice said to him, "What are you doing here, Elijah?”
Last night I was lying in bed and outside was a terrific storm pounding against my windows and the wind howling. I felt my heart racing and I wanted to get out of bed and go be part of the storm. I kept thinking about the story of Elijah. He was listening to hear God, and he expected God to be in a wild storm or an earthquake or a fire. But God actually waited for silence and calm before he spoke to Elijah. It’s probably partly due to the way I was raised and the way my family is, but I’ve always looked for the wildest and most exciting and fastest things. I want to climb to the very top or go to the very edge. I love storms and I love competing and fighting.
But God was not in the wild, fierce, angry storm. He came in the silence, when there was nothing to hear but him. He spoke when Elijah stopped trying so hard.
In many ways our lives are completely chaotic. Yet somewhere in the middle, if we still and quiet our hearts like little children, when we listen to the silence instead of trying to fill it with shouting, God speaks to us.
So who knows. I was looking for the wildness at Half moon bay to grab hold of my heart and fight with me. Yet in the quiet at Turner beach I heard God speak to me. I would’ve missed seeing little blue and yellow fish and sleeping under a palm tree and sailing on a little boat. I would have missed learning how to hear God in the silence.