These surfers said they were grateful . . .
Infectious joy and gratitude spilling all over the place. That’s the only way to describe these surfers.
I talked to them as they were hanging out at their truck after coming in from the waves so they were probably stoked from a good session, but it was more than that… They talked of the awesome weather and good waves, but more than that they talked of Jesus.
Jesus, His name just rolled off their tongues and lit up their eyes.
I told them how I had been through some stuff that taught me to try and hold onto gratitude, taught me it’s importance. They talked of going through stuff too and coming back through to Jesus. They talked of all He has done and worshiping Him
They flexed and cheered and and smiled and unashamedly shared their God.
I snapped a few shots of their uncontainable joy, heard what they are immensely grateful for and went on my way. And as I edit these photos and write this post it haunts me… The farther I get from the mess and the miracle the more my gratitude wanes. I feel more reasonable, more in control, the grief loosing it’s strong grip on me, but am I grown lukewarm? The hot, the cold they shatter and engulf but at least they are noticeable. They are not a slow settling, a dwindling joy.
I came home wanting to stir up the ashes, fan the flame, speak only His name. Stop and be quiet so I can see Jesus. And like Isaiah when I see Him, all in me falls down. I cover my mouth, my unclean lips and cry out in shame. Then, then I can thank Him for His mercies – full up with gratitude for just this moment, this undeserveded day in His prescence.
All this to say… They were grateful for Jesus.
Jesus, they couldn’t stop saying His name and it rang through the air.
– This post is part of my We the Grateful project