Driftwood: Part VII

Nick felt better when he awoke in the morning.  Still, he was haunted by the loss of Gwen.  It seemed to be a weight that would never leave him.  As always, he knew he needed to get on with the day and with life.  He dressed and walked to the restaurant.  It wasn’t until he saw Luz that he remembered he wanted to thank her for the card and the writing.  She was serving other people and had her back to Nick when he sat at a table.  He turned the coffee cup over so it could be filled. 

As she walked to his table with a smile on her face, he stood and said good morning.  He thanked her for the card and writing and said it made his heart feel good. 

“I am happy to know it helped you.  You could understand?  My translation was good?”

“It was good.  I had no problems understanding at all.” 

Luz smiled and said, “Good.  I must go and care for my customers.” 

Nick loaded his plate and was pleased to see a new juice in a pitcher that looked like the type he drank the previous evening.  He poured half a glass and tasted it.  “That’s the stuff.” He whispered as he filled the glass. 

Breakfast hit the spot.  Nick contemplated what he should do that day.  After the previous day, he felt anything he did would be anticlimactic.  As he considered his options, he realized he wanted to go to the private beach again.  He put his bathing suit on and then took out the sun screen.  He started covering what he could but realized he needed someone to evenly cover his back.  He briefly considered asking Luz but decided against it since she was working.  Besides, he felt odd even considering the thought.  He would go to the beach wearing a shirt. 

Once he felt the sand and rocks on his feet, he looked to his right and saw the large driftwood log.  He walked up to it.  He stood behind it and looked out to the ocean.  He closed his eyes for a moment and listened to the waves crash and felt the breeze on his face and the warm rays of the sun on his skin.  He looked down at the log and considered it for a moment.  What is driftwood?  He pondered that question as he sat upon the log.  He felt it was his friend.  “Where did you come from, my friend?”  he asked. 

He began to picture where the tree had originally grown.  He believed it grew close to some type of water source but wasn’t sure it was close to the ocean.  It may have grown up on the banks of a river.  Perhaps there was a flood and the soil around the roots eroded to the point the poor thing toppled over and was swept down stream.  Judging by the diameter of the trunk it must have been many years old but Nick had no idea of the age. 

Still, there must have been many branches but now they were all gone.  It also must have been quite tall.  Now it was not more than six or seven feet long.  The poor thing must have endured a tremendous beating to have once been a strong and mighty tree to be reduced to just another piece of driftwood.  It was grayish in color and somewhat smooth.  The sun must have turned it gray and the waves and water must have smoothed the surface once the bark was ripped off.  Still, there were pockmarks and indentations covering the entire surface. 

More and more, Nick felt he could identify with this piece of driftwood.  He certainly felt battered.  He felt he had been ripped from a place where he had been strong and alive.  He believed he was thrown and tossed about by the storms of life.  This log didn’t ask to be taken from his home and neither did Nick ask for his Gwen to die. 

Disgusted, Nick stood and started walking toward the water.  As they were the last time he visited the beach, the waves were high.  As his youngest son would say, they were epic.  He swam and pushed himself this day.  It was partly out of anger that he wanted to be reckless.  In his mind, he knew it was an act of rebellion to a God that allows good people to die, innocent trees to be uprooted, battered and torn apart and thrust up onto a patch of land it doesn’t know. 

Even as these thoughts rolled through his mind, a different phrase flashed with persistence.  It was “My grace is sufficient for you.”  Nick knew this was part of a verse from the bible and was God’s reply to the apostle Paul after he asked God three time to remove a thorn in the flesh.  Nick continued splashing about in the water and waves trying to ignore these words.  He wanted to be angry at God.  After all, it was His fault wasn’t it? 

After a few hours, Nick decided he had enough and went back to where he left his towel.  As he stood in the shade of a palm tree, he looked at the driftwood.  It was his friend.  They understood each other.  No one else understood him but the driftwood.  Still, after showering back at his room, he still could not shake that phrase:  “My grace is sufficient for you.”  He decided to read the full portion of this scripture so he grabbed his iPad and started the bible app.  He inputted the phrase and got the search results.  It was found in II Corinthians 12.  He started in the middle of verse 7.

“Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. 8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. 9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 10 That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

Nick did feel weak and helpless when it came to the feelings he had.  He felt broken, lonely, and, he finally realized, a little afraid.  He briefly prayed, telling God he was angry that He felt it necessary to take Gwen to heaven.  If God still cared about him, he was willing to be used as the Lord saw fit.  He would also trust that the pain he felt was part of God’s bigger plan.  Somehow, he would benefit.  Nick could feel in the bottom of his soul that he had to trust God.  Where else could he go?  He felt the only thing left was total despair.  God shouldn’t have been his last hope but, he believed, God is the final and best answer.