We live on a hill overlooking a valley holding a lake. Inks Lake. 

Inks lives in the small lake category. Narrow. Somewhat protected from the wind. Ideal for skiing and other water sports.

It’s a beautiful lake. Until it floods. 

A friend and I recently drove over Inks on Highway 29. He pointed out how the view of the lake from a boat gives you a totally different take.

From the bridge you see both ends. You note the colors of the various craft. You think you can make out people on the shore. Expansive but impressionistic and a tad fuzzy in detail.

From the waterline your focus narrows. The waves become more distinct. The people more prominent and defined. Every element more relevant to you because it’s in your space.

You and I live life at the waterline. 

We occasionally climb up and look beyond the lake. We peer up at the sunset and stars above the lake. We wonder what life is like on the other side of the mountain where only cedars and live oak dwell.

But life is lived where the waves meet the shore. 

Where the whitecaps of losing a job or wrecking a car spray us in the face. 

Where debris and dead fish wash up and need burning or burying. 

Where friends walk the shore and bring joy by simply being.  

What does the water line look like in your life? Smooth or scary? Comforting or crazy?

Jesus knows how to calm water. And walk on water. And help you sleep through stormy water.

The view from the bridge may offer a broader take. But the view from the waterline is where you live.

Enjoy the view. Relish in the detail. Invite Jesus to help with the debris. Give Him thanks for giving you such a full waterfront life. 

Even when it floods.