One Saturday morning, I went to the beach to pray. The sand was cool, the waves restless, and two seagulls caught my attention. One seemed to be pestering the other—chasing, nudging, bothering—until the female finally flew off. The male lingered, but when I walked by, he ran from me as if I were a threat.
Without thinking, I whispered, “Don’t run away from me. I’m not going to do anything.” He stopped for a moment, still cautious but less frantic. That small exchange stirred something in me: how often do we misread love as danger, or kindness as threat? How often do I fear being misunderstood in the same way?
And then, just as I turned back toward the water, a wave crashed hard and completely soaked my shorts. I couldn’t help but laugh. It felt less like an accident and more like a father playfully nudging his child forward. A push. A splash. A big watery hug. And with it, a reminder: off you go now, the day is waiting.
The Seagull’s Mirror
The seagull taught me something subtle: I don’t want people to be intimidated by me. I want to walk through life as I am—present, wholehearted, human—without someone assuming I’m a threat. In that moment, the bird mirrored my own quiet desire: Don’t run away. I’m just passing through. I don’t bite.
Paul wrote that “we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us” (2 Corinthians 4:7). We’re fragile and ordinary, yet carrying light. I wonder if part of our calling is to let people feel safe enough to come close, not because of who we are, but because of the God who shines through us.
As Henri Nouwen once said, “When we honestly ask ourselves which people in our lives mean the most to us, we often find it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain.” Sometimes, presence—not perfection—is what allows others to stop running.
When God Plays by the Shore
That wave was no accident. It was playful and tender, the way a father might nudge his child into the day with a wink. In Scripture, God often surprises His people in physical, ordinary ways: Elijah fed by ravens, Jonah shaded by a plant, Peter catching an impossible net of fish. My soaking was nothing so dramatic, but it carried the same essence: I see you. I’m with you. Now, move forward in joy.
Psalm 16:11 says, “You make known to me the path of life; you fill me with joy in your presence.” Sometimes that joy comes not through thunder, but through saltwater on your skin.
C.S. Lewis once wrote, “Joy is the serious business of heaven.” Maybe heaven’s business reached me in a wave this morning.
Meeting God in Nature
Nature has always been one of my clearest classrooms with God. I can sit in my living room and pray, but when I’m by the ocean, everything speaks louder—the horizon, the tide, the flight of birds. Creation is alive with His fingerprints, constantly pointing me back to Him.
Romans 1:20 reminds us that “since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made.” The ocean teaches me of His strength. The seagull, His gentleness. The wave, His playfulness.
As John Muir once said, “In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks.” Today, I went seeking prayer. I left with a seagull’s lesson, a splash of joy, and a deeper sense that God delights in me far more than I realize.
Soul Insights
- Fear misreads love. Sometimes others back away not because you’re dangerous, but because they don’t yet recognize safety in you.
- God loves playfully. His surprises don’t always look like miracles—they can look like waves, laughter, or a push into joy.
- Nature is a dialogue. Every detail of creation echoes something about His heart if we’re willing to notice.
- Presence over perfection. People are drawn not to flawless strength, but to honest humanity that makes space for them.
- Joy is holy business. Delight isn’t frivolous—it’s part of how God strengthens us for the day.
Final Thoughts
I walked away from the beach with wet shorts, sandy feet, and a smile that felt like it came straight from heaven. God didn’t just meet me in prayer—He met me in a wave. He reminded me that I don’t have to be afraid of being misunderstood, that He delights to surprise me, and that His presence is stitched into every grain of sand and every ripple of water.
The question I leave with you: Where is God playfully nudging you today? And will you let joy soak you, even when it catches you off guard?
✨ Your Turn
Tomorrow, step outside—even briefly—and let creation speak. Ask God, “What are You showing me here?” And listen not just with your ears, but with your whole heart.
© 2025 Amelie Chambord
Soul Path Insights 
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