This is our first year living in Hawaii. Before we even moved here, I had been told about the whales visiting in winter. How you could see them from the shore. Mothers and calves. Pec slaps and blows. And, I started a year long countdown until I could be apart of that magic. This winter did not disappoint.
Back in high school I worked on a whale watch in Gloucester--it was actually part of my homeschool curriculum. I helped track behaviors. And, in between puking, it was one of the most fulfilling experiences of my life! To see a 30+ TON animal fly out of the water for no apparent reason other than to just do it--and then to see it do it again, and again, and again...a triumphant chorus declaring the glory of God...really, there is nothing that can quite top that.
When I worked on the whale watch we were out on a "hunt" for whales. We motored out over an hour to reach the fertile waters
Stellwagen Bank. There, we counted ourselves blessed when we would see 5-10 individuals feeding. And, the air was electric when they decided to visit and take a close up look at our boat, or better yet put on the fantastic show of repeated
breaching. But, we were most definitely in the whale's territory. Guests, not unwelcome, but guests all the the same.
In Hawaii the whales come to visit us. From December to May they visit the shores of Hawaii to birth and nurse their young before returning northward to their feeding grounds in Alaska. I can't help but to think, with wide open warm seas to choose from, that the Whales make this journey to "hunt" for us. It seems that they are here and as curious about us as we are about them. We stood a mere 30 feet above a mother whale and her calf as they surfaced frequently to gulp air and even chattered and clicked loudly enough that everyone hiking to the Makapuu lighthouse could hear them. We saw their eyes eying us. And we weren't in pursuit of them. And they weren't in retreat from us. It was on this hike that I first started to realize the whale's part in my journey of faith.
Photo by Corey Balazowich from Flickr Creative Commons (click photo for more info)
Whales are always there. The sea may look void and calm, but we all know that just below that grey (or turquoise) surface life is teeming and deep sea vents are producing yet to be discovered life and God's creation is more diverse and wild and amazing than we have even begun to dare to imagine.
Heaven is like that. It is there. It is within us and around us. We know Heaven is more full of beauty than we can even begin to imagine. We gain glimpses of paradise--
Photo from Flickr Creative Commons by Stephanie (click photo for more info)
in the fog skirting the mountains, in ancient prayers, uplifting symphonies and the peacefulness of a sleeping child's face. If we believe, then we wait patiently for these signs of God's ever-presence. We do not assume that just because we do not see the evidence that it isn't there. The glimpses of God's grace are enough for us to believe there is so much more going on below (and above and within) than we may ever see during this lifetime. Yet, we have faith of an eternity with God as we, and the whole of his creation, glorify Him.
A few weeks ago my oldest son and I rose with the son. We stopped for coffee (and sunblock) and drove a mile and a half down the road to meet up with 20 other people to do the first "official whale count" of the season. It was cold. And windy. The seas were choppy. And, for those of us accustomed to the womb-like-weather of Hawaii it was a little shocking to the system! Gray skies. Gray seas. Clipboards flipping papers in the strong breezes. The threat of rain. But, not a single observer was scared away. We believed those whales were out there. We knew that, seen or unseen, they were right out there along the horizon. We trusted if we were patient enough, persistent enough and observant enough we'd be blessed enough to see one.
We waited. The official count was still 20 minutes away from starting and my 9 year old son was the first to shout "BLOW!" and we all gasped at the spout of mist shooting above the sea, not far from the horizon. It was all we saw. But, we waited. We had faith there would be more. As if on cue, the clock struck 8 and a full sized whale Breached his large body full out of the sea. He was close. Closer than we usually see in Lanikai. And he was right on time. Breach. Breach. Breach. And then he disappeared from sight. A 40 foot 40 ton animal, completely hidden from us little humans on our little hill daring to count each siting on our flimsy clipboards.
We saw a bit more activity over the next few hours. We weren't in the busiest spot (there are many better viewing options on our island), but we saw enough. We confirmed for ourselves that the whales were, indeed, still there. They keep coming back. And even when we doubt their existence the are only just out of sight ready, at any moment, to completely blow our minds.
My life as a Christian has mirrored my life as a Whale Watcher. I have had
glimpses of Heaven, but most of my life is lived on faith. I believe there is so much more going on than I can possibly make sense of from where I stand. I trust that when it looks like nothing is happening, something is. My life may look dull, but inside a symphony is being written. I believe when it looks like the sea is too rough for life to be compatible, there will be sun again someday and, in the mean time, life (even in the face of death) goes on. The signs that point us Heavenward are abundant. When we
count our blessings, we are hunting and follwing our path home. And even gentle giants play their part in leading us home to heaven--if only we will watch and wait.
Photo by Jay Bergensen found on Creative Commons on Flickr (click photo for more info)
