an ocean memory.

As I was driving back from the grocery store this evening, a song by one of my new favorite bands, NeedToBreathe, began to play on the radio. I hadn't heard the song before, and the opening line grabbed me right away: "In your ocean I'm ankle deep..."

I love the ocean. The photo accompanying my poem from earlier today is from a trip to Charleston, SC last summer; it is one of my favorite beach memories to date. Growing up on the West Coast populated my past with many visits to the sea: my cousins and I frolicked in the surfs of the Bay Area, and my brother and I spent several summers with our great-grandparents at their ocean-side home in Oregon. Tonight, though, when NeedToBreathe's song washed out from the car's speakers and slowly over me, I thought of the warmer tides of spring in Monterey, California.

It was a month or so before my hubby and I got married, and we'd decided to be baptized. We were both believers but had not experienced baptism, and we thought it would be an amazing way to start our lives together. After church one Sunday, we sped back to the base where we were still in military training and dashed to our respective dorm rooms to change into our baptismal clothes. We sailed up and down the smooth hills encircling the Presidio, arriving finally at Lover's Point, a popular wedding location just outside Monterey in Pacific Grove.

As we made our way down the long flight of stone steps to a carved out hollow of beach that spread out into the ocean, I noted the many people present. There was a small handful of people from our church and our pastor, of course, but most of the individuals lingering about were there for sun-tanning, shared ice cream cones on the sand, and boogey boarding. I felt somewhat self-conscious (I get embarrassed opening presents in front of family on my birthday), but I had Ben beside me squeezing my hand encouragingly, and my maid-of-honor and good friend, Maria, had shown up as well with a congratulatory bouquet of flowers in hand.

It was a rare day when I, normally rambunctiously chatty and goofy, was outwardly silent and contemplative. I listened carefully as the pastor gave a brief welcome to those of us present; children nearby cocked their heads curiously at our small group, and their parents shielded their eyes from the sun to inspect us likewise.

And then it was time. I can't remember if Ben or I went first, but Maria greeted me as I returned, a wide smile on her face and towel in hand. It all went very quickly, and while we dried off and collected our things, I glimpsed a young girl clad in a wetsuit making her way toward our pastor where he was still standing waist-deep amid softly curling waves. She had not come with our fellow congregants; she had peeled off from a pack of people on the other side of the lagoon where they were boogey boarding and playing in the water. She had been watching us as we were baptized, and turned to lift her legs high into the air as you have to when walking in water to come speak with Pastor.

A minute went by, and he turned to us and announced in a loud voice that she wanted to be baptized for the remission of her sins, to be born again as a daughter of Christ. I stood with mouth agape and watched as he laid her gently beneath the surface and brought her up again. We clapped, and many around us scattered across the sand did so as well. I bit my bottom lip and marveled at her bravery, at her willingness to respond to His call in her heart right there in front of so many she did not know. The tug of the Spirit was irresistible.

Hey now, this is my desire
Consume me like a fire
'Cause I just want
Something beautiful to touch me
I know that I'm in reach
'Cause I am down on my knees
And waiting for
Something beautiful

The memory of her striding so confidently over, hair wet and eyes gleaming with resolve, stirred my heart anew tonight. Reminded me that responding to my need for a Savior did not end with my first prayer to Him, nor my baptism at Lover's Point. It is every day, every moment, every act both great and small.

And the water is rising quick
And for years I was scared of it
We can't be sure when it will subside
So I won't leave your side
No, I can't leave your side