Waves, rafts and kids… a formula for fun. Today the girls celebrated Birgitta’s last vacation day before college by romping in heady Lake Michigan surf. Their laughter rose above the crash of the waves, and I had as much fun watching them as they had playing.

Churning white water presents three options: over, under or through. Leaping to jump or dive over a wave is a delight, offering a smooth ride down. Ducking under to let the turmoil of a breaking wave roll above you is especially good if you open your eyes and watch it pass.

But choosing to go through a wave, experiencing the full power of underwater chaos, is spectacular. Knowing you’ll come out the other side lets you submit with abandon.

Lake Michigan waves, admittedly friendlier than their bigger ocean counterparts, develop in the same way as the giant cousins. A new weather system bringing wind begins to stir calm water into a chop, which is followed by larger breakers. Bigger winds? Bigger waves.

Because of weather’s ongoing changes, we’re never sure when to pack the rafts for a day at the beach. But the rustling of trees along with a distant roar lets us know.

Like the continual change on the water’s surface, our family is adjusting to changes, too. The biggest one has been getting used to Nate’s absence. Ten of us have been working hard to calm our emotional waters over the past nine months. In many day-to-day ways also, a measure of chaos similar to white water has risen up and overwhelmed, just as big waves break over a swimmer on a raft.

Since last November, the “weather” of grief has shifted often, sometimes leaving us to tread water without a raft at all, which is exhausting. We’ve all felt like the next storm might swamp us completely, should it arrive too soon. But here we are, still afloat, making gradual progress through the waves.

Now we’re beginning to experience fresh winds of family change. Birgitta will become a first time university student. Nelson will return after circling the globe since last January while leading a YWAM group. Louisa will begin an intensive nine month Bible school, and Jack and I will regroup in an empty nest. Waves may develop, or there may be calm water ahead. It’s too soon to get the weather report.

But we aren’t alone in this. Everyone experiences change, and much of it involves waves. Waves of grief, waves of pressure, waves of work, waves of obstacles, waves of decisions.

Forty years ago we sang along with a Top 40 hit whose chorus went like this:

• Put your hand in the hand of the man who stilled the waters.
• Put your hand in the hand of the man who calmed the sea.

It was good counsel then and is still good now. The mental picture of God’s big, sure grip on each of us as we toss about in the waves of change should remind us he’s pulling us through toward quieter waters.

As a matter of fact, God has plans to one day pull everybody out of the water completely. We’ll be done with going over, under or through any more waves of change. And when that happens, we can deflate our rafts for good.

“He leads me beside still waters.” (Psalm 23:2b)