Creative Writing Group Piece

Deep calls to deep. Bearing your soul to another. Being vulnerable and uttering truths. As the waves crash repeatedly on the shore. Looking past the immediate turbulence of foam and spray onwards and outwards to the distant islands. Cliff faces standing bare to the elements. The driftwood came to rest upon the shore, anchored in the sand amidst a sea of pebbles. Like a tree taken root but in this case a dead piece of wood offering itself as the pew on which the sharing and intimate conversations can occur.

The endless crashing of life's waves have not moved it, it is firm, solid and stable. Its massive trunk a sturdy base, a stalwart base. Waves have smoothed and honed it into what it is, moulding it into a bench. As each pebble has been smoothed and rounded, so has the ancient tree been caressed and crafted into a new creation.

God at work in nature and in the hearts of man. Moulding each heart and life into what he has planned. From the log on the beach, the future islands look far off and unattainable, blocked by the crashing waves. Sharing one's story and opening one's heart to another to be guided and encouraged. Challenged to see past the waves to the distant shore and what God has got planned. God's constant love like the ever churning waves upon the shore. Life's challenges make the way rocky, but at the same time each wave moulds us and changes us more into the unique pebbles on the shore. Each with a different story of how they've been formed, making them what they are.