"don't leave me...

alone." yesterday as I was in the water with Luis, that is the only thought that kept running through my head as I grew more tired. here is the scene:

I arrived to the train station at 1:45pm, having come straight from language school with my books and towel. the sun was perfect, warm and direct. Luis picked me up with the boards already in the car. we went to a bike shop to mount a new surf rack on his car, and we talked while we waited for the shop owner. standing there in the sun, it felt so wonderful to have a genuine conversation. after some silences and words, we went to his apartment to get the roof guards off his old car. it could have seemed like a many errands to complete before actually arriving at guincho, but I was so thankful to simply be with someone.

after securing the boards on top, we were on our way. we talked about life and faith, the things that satisfy and the things that do not. pulling into the parking lot, it was wonderful to see Luis in his community. he is a rather shy individual, and yet everyone knows him and stops to say hello. we stood, overlooking the beach, teacher and student. he is teaching me the character of surfing, wind, off-shore, on-shore, tide, current, swell. it is a foreign art, but I am eager to learn.

having discussed too many logistics to remember right then, we crawled into our wetsuits. I still cannot quite get mine right, needing Luis' help each time to zip me in. it reminds me I am still new and in need. after pulling the board off the roof, it was a race for the water. before jumping in, we practiced technique and 3 steps in the sand: 1)with hands directly under the shoulders, raise the torso off the board 2)raise left leg and place the foot horizontally on the mid-line of the board 3)place right foot slightly turned out about 1 1/2 feet from the left foot. remain loose, look toward the beach.

ten feet from immersion, I squealed in anticipation of the cold adventure that lie ahead. we stayed in the white water near the beach, and we laughed for nearly the whole lesson. I got up on the board most of the time, but that is not the reason for which I have chosen to pursue this venture. right now, it is about the natural friendship that develops in that water.

after an hour, I started to grow tired. dive under, go over, up top, turn sideways, paddle, face the beach, don't be scared. as I started to become weary, Luis started to place more distance between us in the waves. I had to learn to do it on my own, to be on my board without him. suddenly I was keenly aware of what a spiritual moment that was. it required everything in me to not reach for Luis' hand, to lean on him for support, to turn the board around and leave the safety of his presence.

I have decided surfing is a thing of simplicity and vulnerability. all that is needed is a wetsuit and a board, everything superfluous is left in its place on the shore. regarding vulnerability, I am painfully afraid of being alone. perhaps this is how God directs us. He pushes us to places we have never been before, knowing that our inadequacy will draw us closer to Him: our desires, our need, our weakness, our humanity. my humanity reminds me I need the touch of God and others. "don't leave me alone."