I had learned to surf at a surfing camp in Costa Rica four years ago.

I remember being pushed out on a wave that was way past my ability to ride.  I got up on it anyway, made the mistake of doubting my ride and looked up.  Suddenly, I was enclosed and taken by the wave and from there was carried what is called, “the washing machine” out to the deepest of the ocean.

Confused and needing air, I tried to push up but the bottom of the ocean was not there.  I instantly went through all the graces I’d been given in my life.

I’d realized my girls were grown and did not need me anymore. I had made a promise to God when they were small to just let me live to be a mother to them until they are grown.  That time had come and gone.

I was needing to breath and didn’t know what was up or down, and I was probably going to die.  A warm feeling came over me of surrender.  I gave up my will and subjected my thoughts, ideas, and deeds to my higher power.  I was ok with surrendering.

I felt grateful that I had the years I had prayed for and then some.   Just as that feeling rushed through my body, I somehow found the leash on my leg and climbed the rope to my board…..My time had not come.

My path is still being made although I still have surrendered.  I am not in the lead.

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