Never Alone

This is a true account of what happened during my recent vacation. I have chosen to share this story because of how powerfully the experience moved me at a time when I was feeling particularly vulnerable. I respect each person's right to have their own beliefs, and I hope you will respect my right to mine.

~ C





As my friend and I made our way towards Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, I was consumed with the idea of once again playing in the ocean. The beach has always been a spiritual place for me. I try to go every couple of years or so to recharge my soul. There is something about the power of the ocean that brings me peace and perspective.

The past few years had been painful. A bitter divorce. Starting my life over. Job uncertainties. Loneliness. My faith had waned. I knew that God would never leave me, but I found myself leaving Him over and over again. I thought I could – should – handle everything on my own. If I was in charge, then the only one responsible for my happiness would be me. The more I felt alone, the easier I thought life would be.

We got to our hotel around 4:00, and by 4:30, we were on the beach. It was a picture perfect day – 88 degrees, not a cloud in the brilliant blue sky, and the ocean was glistening – beckoning me to come in.

I raced down to the surf and plunged into the ocean, willing my cares to be swept out to sea. However, I had grossly underestimated the power of the currents. A wave crashed over my head, knocking me to the shell-covered bottom. Before I could regain my footing, another wave swept over me, pinning me beneath the surface.

When the first wave knocked me down, I had instinctively reached up and grabbed my sunglasses, which I had worn into the surf, not anticipating going in more than waist-deep. When the second wave hit, I could feel my sunglasses being ripped from my hand. I fought to hold onto them. They may have been cheap and tacky, but I loved them! Suddenly, I heard a clear voice: “You can let go of your sunglasses, or you can let go of your life.” Startled, I uncurled my fingers from the sunglasses, just as wave number three bore down. Just as panic was about to set in, my friend reached for me with a strong arm and a sure hold, pulling me safely to shore. Shaken and embarrassed, I tried to play it cool. I commented that I was fine, but that my little adventure had cost me my favorite shades. I made a mental note to run by a store later that evening to replace them.

After a few more minutes of playing in the (ankle deep!) ocean, my friend and I decided to head for the hotel. As we turned to head in, my friend grabbed my arm, pointed, and said, “Look Carrie! Aren’t those your sunglasses?”

There, washed up on the beach without so much as a scratch, were my cheap and tacky sunglasses.

As I grabbed them up, I said a silent prayer of thanks…not that God had returned my sunglasses, but that He had shown me how He is there, even when I may not be.

Me, alone? Never.