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.