If Trust Was a Cliff

December 24, 2013 11:53 PM
Christmas Eve

The tide was coming in.  The sky was so dark that I could only hear the large surf way out on the edge of the reef.  My bare toes subconsciously curled into the wet sand, waves lapping around my ankles with the ebb and flow of the reef current.  I could hear a choir singing from the church down the road, their voices bouncing off nothing but the surface of the vast Pacific Ocean spread out before me and shooting off into the star-speckled night sky.

For some reason I felt it appropriate in the moment to sing "Silent Night".  Because it really was.  It really was the quietest Christmas Eve I have ever spent in my life.

Usually, I would be surrounded by the whole Davis family, taking a picture around the tree with our santa hats on.  Then we would find out spots on the couches in the living room and get comfortable.  Zach would be doing cartwheels with excitement, Mom is bringing out sparkling cider, and Dad is getting his bible out to read the traditional Christmas story to the family before opening gifts.  The wood stove is burning hot, keeping the Davis home warm from the dark, snowy eve outside.

The warm, salty breeze hits my cheeks, flowing mysteriously over the dark surface of the sea.

I am a long ways from home.

I remember talking to multiple SMs before I left to Kosrae.  Almost every single one, without fail, would mention something about being lonely on Christmas.

You will have a great experience!  I mean, there is always culture shock and Christmas time is pretty hard, but other than that it is such a blessing.

Don't worry, we send lots of packages around Christmas time!  We know that is usually the hardest time for SMs.

I remember when I went as an SM.  It was a life changing experience.  I learned so much and I changed in so many ways.  The first week or so will be hard, and so will Christmas.  But after that you won't want to leave!

I stood there in the quiet of the night, quite aware that I was alone on Christmas, standing on the shores of a tiny island in the very middle of the tropical Pacific Ocean.  But somehow, I felt okay.  It gave me a chance to think.  I remember back in August when I arrived.  I remember praying like I have never prayed before for strength to make it through, strength to do what I thought I could NOT do.  I knew I didn't have it in me, and that my strength was held in the arms of God where is is most valuable.  And the strange thing was, He never just handed it to me.  He seemed to ration it out, giving me JUST enough to make it through day by day.  I never had a moment where I thought "Man, this is easy!  Thanks God for the jumpstart, but I think I can take it from here!"


 If trust was a cliff, he kept me far enough out on the ledge to where I couldn't quite get my own footing without hanging on to Him.


And through some of the hardest spiritual moments in my life I find myself standing on the shores of His ocean, realizing that I had just conquered half of what seemed so brutally impossible that moment I started teaching on August 26.

We still have worries. We have current frustrations about certain things and obstacles to overcome, and I was tempted to send up another prayer to "complain" to God again about all these things.  But maybe there was some Christmas magic in the air, because when I moved my lips to pray, all that came out was:

"Thank you, God.  Thank you for carrying me this far.  Merry Christmas, God."


 I took one last look at the sea, drew a deep breath, and walked back down the muddy road to my bed.

Merry Christmas from the tropics,

River