Settled in the sand. Sun on her shoulder. Sweet quiet wind across the shoreline. Steady and constant whisper of waves running wet fingers up the beach could barely touch her. Laying there, just far enough away from the fondling foam to feel its icy shock on the tips of toes. In and out, water breaking, reaching, falling back into the deep expanse.

Something ugly and out of place had been tossed upon the shore. A ragged piece of bark, heavy, torn, tumbling under the gentle pressure of the tide. Wheeling up the gritty path, only to be pulled violently back to suffocate under the ocean. Thrown uncontrollably, looking up at bright sun, looking down at black depth. Worn and tired from the journey of light and dark, warm and cold, here and there. She lay untouched, for just a second.

It had been a long time. She couldn’t even remember how long it had been. Busy days that had once kept her distracted, now pressed her deeper under the surface. Quiet moments that had once brought her solace, now pricked at her soul every second they ticked past. Meaningful minutes that had once scripted her purpose, had grown futile and vain. And so the journey of the knowledge of good and evil heaved her broken body wildly between worlds.

Settled in the sand, just for a moment. She had no power to direct the wind and the waves, the light and the dark. Who was it that took her from the violent womb of the sea. Who cast her upon the dry ground. Who made her to taste destruction, and then who pulled her out from the watery pit. It was one and the same, the only One who could tell such a grand and overwhelming story over and over. Only One consigned all to disobedience and drowning so that he is the only One who might have mercy on all. Only One tossed her into to the deep so that He could also throw her onto the shore.

Sun on her shoulder, just for a moment. She was tired of the One whom she could not control. She was exhausted from this journey that had proven to be too much. She questioned where she belonged in this cosmic joke of sand and sea. But to whom shall she go. There is none to help.

Steady and constant whisper of waves, speaking the whole time. Not changing the tides. Not silencing the storms. Not stopping the journey. Saying something else.

Don’t fear the journey, see yourself as you are.

Something beautiful and out of place had been tossed upon the shore. A ragged piece of bark, heavy, torn, tumbling across the timeline of occurrence. Ripped from the heart of a tree who is living. Separated from the stump of eternal fruit. Returned and restored even as she chokes. The she is a piece of the tree of life, ocean or land, light or dark, no matter where she is thrown.

Settled in the sand. Sun on her shoulder. Stirring evening wind across the shoreline. Steady and constant whisper of waves clawing higher and higher. Tearing at her toes, dragging her viciously and swiftly into another frozen abyss. In and out, water pulling, reaching, falling back into the deep expanse.