The Tide Rises. the Tide Falls

My An Arkie's Faith column from the January 18, 2023, issue of The Polk County Pulse.

As soon as we parked the car in the condo parking lot, I got out and headed down the path to the beach access. Steep wooden steps led down the cliff to the ocean below. It had been forty eight hours since we drove away from Mena towards Dallas to catch our flight to Portland. After flight delays caused by a FAA computer malfunction, we were finally on the Oregon Coast.

The ocean looked angry as huge waves created an almost deafening roar. I was looking forward to walking on the beach, but the tide was high and occasionally the water and foam would roll in all the way to the cliff banks. As I was standing on the cement landing at the bottom of the stairs to the beach, a huge sneaker wave crashed ashore, and I realized that the water and foam were going to cover the landing. I headed up the stairs and although I made it up several steps, the sea foam licked at my heels.

When the water had receded, I watched as my granddaughter climbed off the platform, down onto the beach while keeping a wary eye on the ocean. She wanted to touch the sea foam and play in it. But it wasn’t long before a wave chased her back up onto the platform and up the steps. Playing on the beach would have to wait for another day. 

Early the next morning, I headed back down to the beach to go for a walk, but the tide was so high that I wasn’t able too. Many of the waves came all the way to the towering cliffs at the edge of the beach, leaving no place to walk. I went back to the condo and checked the tide chart. It was only an hour after high tide, but the tide was receding. Maybe I would be able to I walk the beach after breakfast.

I was at the Oregon coast for a family reunion. Family was here from Washington, Oregon, Colorado, Louisiana, and Arkansas. My brother-in-law and sister-in-law provided condos for everyone and there condo was the central meeting place. All off us crowded into their condo and where they served a delicious breakfast. After everyone had finished eating I took out my phone and began looking through my photos to choose some to post to Facebook. As I opened the app, the first post I saw sent a shock through me.

A friend had posted, “Today we struggle to find much joy. Our little family that we have formed in Polk County took a hard hit last night. We lost a pillar of the crew in a motorcycle wreck. Jason Bird Moga, or Uncle Bird to our kids leaves a big hole in our hearts.” Over the last few years, Bird and I had become friends. I had talked to him just hours before I left for Oregon. When I read the horrible news, I blurted out to those in the room, “My friend passed away last night.” A wave of emotion rolled over me and I couldn’t stay in the room.

I grabbed my coat and rushed outside. I walked down the path toward the ocean access with thoughts swirling in my head. I remembered first meeting Bird and being intimidated by his size and appearance. But when I got to know him, I found him to be a gentle giant. Our mutual love of cars brought us together, but his kindness and willingness to help others was what made want to be his friend. 

When I reached the top of the stairs leading down to the beach, I stopped and just looked out over the ocean. As the waved crashed into the shore over and over, I barely saw them. My mind was filled with thoughts of Bird as my eyes filled with tears. I remembered all of the discussions we had about the project he was going to help me with. We had planned to resurrect the 1967 Toyota Stout that had moved my family to Mena in 1981. The old Toyota was in rough shape, but Bird had a plan to get it back on the road. It seemed that every time we planned to start, his health issues postponed the project.

As I stood lost in my thoughts and blankly staring out over the ocean, my nephew came by on his way down to the beach. As I spoke to him, telling him that my friend had died, it has like a dam broke and I couldn’t hold it inside. I broke down and cried, and it seemed that I couldn’t get my emotions in check. When I was finally able to speak again, he told me that he was going to scout location for surf fishing and invited me to go with him.

We walked along the beach as a light drizzle kept us wet. My nephew explained to me what he was looking for in the wave formations that would indicate a possible place for surf fishing. The tide was still high enough that the occasional wave would send us scrambling up the rocks at the bottom of the cliff side to escape the water. As I walked along the beach, I could hear The Moody Blues singing in my head. “I’ve been searching for my dream a hundred times today. I build then up, you knock them down, like they were made of clay. Then the tide rushes in and washes my castles away.”

When the waves were once again chasing us up onto the safety of the rocks, I thought about the tides as a metaphor of life. One minute you may be excitedly visiting with family you haven’t seen for several years, and the next minute the tide rushes in and the news of a tragedy cults your legs out from under you. There is a cycle to life, and sometimes it seems that the tides are going to drown us. Even David felt this way when he wrote in Psalms 42:6,7 (NLT), “Now I am deeply discouraged, I hear the tumult of the raging seas as your waves and surging tides sweep over me.”

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote about this cycle of life; “The tide rises, the tide falls, the twilight darkens, the curlew calls; Along the sea-sands damp and brown the traveler hastens toward the town, and the tide rises, the tide falls.” In his poem Wadsworth contrasts the travelers journey with the endless, ongoing cycles of the natural world. Our time on earth is so short compared to the vastness of eternity. “The little waves, with their soft, white hands, efface the footprints in the sands, and the tide rises, the tide falls.”

Gentle Reader, we all witness the tide rising and falling in our lives. There are times in our lives when the surging tide rushes in and sweeps over us. Sometimes circumstances overwhelm us and leaves us gasping for breath. But God has promised us that there will come a time when that cycle will be broken. Revelation 21:4 (NCV) tells us, “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death, sadness, crying, or pain.” I long for that day.