One of my favorite hobbies growing up in Southern California was body boarding. I started learning the sport in elementary school riding little shore breakers, but by the time I was in college I was riding waves over 10 feet tall. Most of the time the waves off the southern California coast are fairly tame, however you always have to watch for the occasional big sets that can catch you off guard. If you're in the right spot to catch the majority of the waves, you're usually in the wrong spot to catch the much larger ones since they form in deeper water. Where the smaller waves are getting just steep enough to catch, the bigger waves will already be breaking. If you don't dive deep when those waves come, they can envelope you in a vortex of water that can be hard to escape. Even worse they usually come in sets, and if the first wave gets you, there are probably 2-3 more with your name on them.

Me watching for waves off the coast of Malibu - Sept 2012

Whenever I saw one of those big sets on the horizon my heart would quicken, I'd immediately vault down to my board and start paddling and kicking, straining with all of my strength, frantically trying to reach the wave before it broke. If I got there in time, it could be the best ride of the day; if I got there a few seconds late, the battle to stay afloat began. On the other side of the spectrum, sometimes there'd be days when the waves just wouldn't come. I'd sit there waiting and becoming restless, wishing for one of those big sets. It became a test a patience rather than a test of strength.

 Looking back over the last two years of this adoption struggle, I see numerous sets of waves that we've traversed. There have been long waiting periods with few waves, where nothing much was happening and patience was hard to find. But there have also been plenty of times when the waves have gotten big and moments of panic took over. Would we make it past the huge struggle on the horizon? Was God going to come through for us? Why wasn't He acting faster? Doesn't He care? The pace of my prayers and striving for answers would accelerate every time a big swell appeared. Is this how life has to be? Seasons of impatience broken up by moments of frantic worry? Is there a way to remain grounded and constant no matter what kind of seas we're swimming through?

In Matthew 8 verse 23 Jesus sheds some light on the cause of frantic fear. In this passage we find Jesus and his disciples climbing into a boat. As they sail out away from shore, Jesus falls asleep. Suddenly a violent storm descends on the crew of disciples and they begin to panic. Remember some of these disciples are fishermen, they are not all inexperienced sailors. They'd no doubt ridden through many storms before, and knew what they could handle. They couldn't handle this. Some versions of the text say that this storm was so big, the waves were covering the boat! You can almost see the urgency in their faces when they wake Jesus up saying "Lord, save us! We're going to drown!" They are terrified. Notice Jesus' response. He does not reprimand them for waking him up. He's not upset that they're coming to him to be saved. He doesn't even downplay the severity of the storm. He's upset at the fearful frenzy they've worked themselves into and ultimately what their reactions say about the magnitude of their faith. "He replied 'you of little faith, why are you so afraid?'" Then Jesus calms the storm with a word, and the wind and waves cease. The text says the disciples reaction was amazement, but I wonder if they also felt a little foolish at their panicked cries that were probably still ringing in their ears when suddenly the wind quieted and the waves turned to a glassy sea. They had God incarnate in the boat with them, yet their eyes were fixed on the world and their circumstances.

Lest we get prideful in thinking our reactions to the circumstances in our lives would change if Jesus were sitting next to us, don't forget Christian brothers and sisters, we have God's Spirit living inside us! He's not just with us, He's in us. Unfortunately, just like the disciples, even though God's Spirit is in us, we too fix our eyes on the world and our circumstances. When things go wrong our reaction is often fear instead of faith. And it's not that we don't go through terrifying storms with insurmountable waves, it's that we let those storms whip us into frantic worry instead of abiding in the shelter of the Almighty. Even though this abiding will not remove pain, emotion and incredible hardships from our lives, if we trust in God, our hearts will not be splintered against the rocks when the waves come.

"The salvation of the righteous comes from the LORD; he is their stronghold in time of trouble.The LORD helps them and delivers them; he delivers them from the wicked and saves them, because they take refuge in him." Psalm 37: 39-40.

Samuel after a long day of travel/visits

I wonder if the disciples were ever in a storm battered boat with Jesus again, and I wonder if their reaction would have changed because of what they witnessed. It certainly took me witnessing his faithfulness multiple times for Him to get through to me. I believe God has used this adoption struggle and especially the Court ordered visitations to teach me wave after wave how to take refuge in Him. On our first trip down my thoughts were crying out just like those disciples; God save us, they're going to tear our family apart! But as the trips continued, God gave me glimpse after glimpse of His glory and faithfulness. Sometimes that faithfulness manifested itself in simple hugs from Samuel as I waited in the background during the visits. Sometimes the mercies came in friendly neighbors on the plane who had 5 kids at home and actually wanted to sit by us. Grace came in answered prayers of a sleeping boy at the end of a long day.

As I watched God work, I slowly learned He can be trusted and it's begun changing my perspective in trials. I don't necessarily say that because Samuel's adoption is headed for finalization, though that is an incredible mercy and blessing. My perspective has changed mainly because I've experienced his faithfulness in his unwavering strengthening of my soul over every wave of this journey. He's been my closest ally when no one else could be there for me. He's given joy in the midst of tears. He's reassured as I've opened my hands. And one of the biggest things he's taught me, is that when he changes my focus from the circumstances to the Eternal, frantic worry gets swept away.

On one of our last weekend trips to Tulsa I remember coming home completely exhausted from the storm. Samuel had gotten sick while we were gone. Saturday night he was up all night coughing. Around 3 am he started calling "dada dada." I went over to his crib and scooped him up and carried him to bed with me. I got him propped up on some pillows with my arm around him and he slowly stopped coughing and went to sleep. Several hours later, we still had to crawl out of bed for the visit. Once the visit was done we had to get back to the airport for our flight home. On the way to the airport Samuel was coughing so much he ended up throwing up all over himself and the car seat that we were borrowing from our friends. There we were, in the 100 degree heat, in a side road parking lot cleaning up vomit, changing wet clothes, desperately in need of sleep. I was angry at the courts and frustrated with God for letting that weekend happen. Fair wasn't even in the universe of my thoughts that Sunday. When we got home, my wife came to pick us up at the airport. We exchanged hugs and got loaded into the car, and then I lost it. Uncontrolled sobbing took over as I finally let my guard down after a miserable weekend. Through the tears I started half venting and half praying. I told my wife as terrible as the weekend was, God helped me realize something. He helped me realize no one could take away what we had done for Samuel. No one could take away how we'd fought for a little boy who couldn't fight for himself. That God was honored by our love and no one could steal that treasure. That was a turning point for me as God strengthened my faith and washed away my fear.

As we near the end of this storm, my faith is far from perfect. I'm sure seasons of panic will still surface, but as I face the sure storms ahead, my prayer is that God will continue to strengthen me to turn my gaze heavenward, above the waves, beyond my fears through the stinging spray atop the swells, to Christ my Savior who ever lives and intercedes for me. I pray that I'll cast my worries aside and lift my treasures heavenward where they'll be safely kept until He calls me home. And on that glorious day, I pray I'll have the honor of placing those treasures at the feet of my King.