Beach Prayers

I sit on large stones overlooking the sea. I came to the beach to pray, but I’m not the only one praying, and God is not the only one being worshiped here.

A South Asian Hindu couple beat me here and they are in the middle of a ritual, so I sit on the rocks and wait before walking along the sand. They present an offering to some unseen god in the ocean. They take turns kneeling in front of the offering, hands pressed together in a symbol of prayer, eyes looking out over the ocean. I wonder what they are saying, thinking. I wonder what they are wanting. I’m struck with the irony that all of us came here to worship.

Offering to a god

The man lifts the tray and walks down to the edge of the water. He wears a long white towel wrapped around his waist. The woman waits on the shore with a dry towel while the man wades waist deep and then pours the whole tray into the water.

The waves immediately begin to wash the contents up onto the shore while the man stays behind to take a swim. In minutes the flowers, orange slices, and banana leaf join the squiggly line of washed up seashells. The coconut still floats in the water a bit longer. Crows come to pick at the new deposits and carry bits of fruit away in their black beaks.

Before the couple leaves, the woman carries a handful of crumpled plastic bags and unceremoniously tosses the debris into the water in that same spot where she previously presented offerings. I watch the coconut and plastic bags float side-by-side in the water and analogies flood my mind.

Their offering, my offering

Does it bother her that in one minute she reverently presents flowers to a god and in the next minute she chunks trash into the same spot?

And then I ask my judgmental self: Don’t I often bring both types of “offerings” from my own life to God? You know, special “planned” offerings, as well as toss-worthy junk?

Worshiping God

The couple gathers their belongings and leaves the beach. They are obviously seeking…but they are seeking after many many gods. And there is only One God.

After they leave, I listen to the waves, feel the cool breeze, look out over the water, taste the salt in the air. An hour earlier I read Genesis 1, where God gathered the waters into one spot and called it Seas. That was on Day 2 of Time. And ever since then “there was an evening and there was a morning.” As I listen to the rhythm of the waves ebbing and flowing against the giant rocks that I sit on, I imagine those first days and wonder if God enjoyed the sound of those very first waves like I enjoyed the sound of each of my children’s heartbeats the very first time the doctor let me hear the rhythmic swish-thump-swish-thump that announced a new life within me.

Ebb and flow. Ebb and flow. Day and Night. Day and Night. And Time, created by God, will continue like this until Jesus returns and we no longer have a need for the sun to show us our Day because God Himself will shine on us.(Isaiah 60:19, Rev. 21:23).

Our Majestic God

My walk on the beach reminded me of the greatness of our God. I joined David in saying, ”What is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?” (Psalm 8:4)