Waves.

A little girl sat between the stretched out legs of her mother, their bodies fitting together like a Matryoshka doll. The waves lolled back and forth, rinsing the sand and grit over their skin with each crash. The little girl didn’t dare stand, as she would easily be knocked over. The mother’s legs kept her daughter wedged securely in place even as each wave rocked them slightly.

“Why do the waves keep coming, Mommy?,” the little girl asked. The mother paused for a moment, considering the question. “They can’t help but to keep coming. No one could ever stop them if they tried,” she replied. The mother pondered on this for a long while, as they sat together.

She realized this concept of ever coming, unceasing waves was so akin to what she had learned about life. There was really no way to prevent the events of life from continuing on, good or bad, no matter how much she tried to control them. The only thing she could do was to know more deeply the Creator of the ocean.